Anonymous: You're really attractive!

I followed this advice:

Turned out great! :p

No, but thank you. I’ll be walking around town with an extra jovial step.


It’s the eternal return of the same. Just another digression. Followed by the same epiphany. Followed once more by inaction. His words never ringing true. 

Tonight, once again, he feels inconsequential.

Still’s I took in between takes on the short film I have been busy with the last few days. It’s done now and everything looks great. I am excited to see it edited. I can’t wait to share it with you all.

My Skype calls always have great lighting.

Skyped with swinton yesterday. You can see him on the screen.

Took the first photo during the Skype call.

I can be absurdly ridiculous.

New Theme

I changed my theme! Give it a look if you would like, and let me know if you experience any issues. Thank you all :D <3

My friend Rosie (or Roro as friends call her) is a talented writer, and an incredibly strong willed passionate woman. She has two beautiful children and a wonderfully supportive husband(Nick is the coolest). They lead hectic busy lives. Despite that she manages to find time to write and work on her passion(film). Her family has been incredibly supportive to me, and I am incredibly grateful to them.

I took this photo of Rosie while we were playing with some lights during a production meeting.

Today was another day of prep for the shoot which begins tomorrow. Everything is set in motion. Hopefully it will all go well.

Convictions are Prisons

"Es preciso no dejarse engañar: todos los grandes espíritus son escépticos por naturaleza, Zarathustra es escéptico. La fuerza y la libertad salidas del vigor y de la plenitud del espíritu se demuestran por el escepticismo…. Las convicciones son prisiones. “

Spent today working on the call sheet and shooting schedule for the short film we will be shooting this weekend. Taking sporadic breaks to revisit “Antichrist.”

I got this particular edition of antichrist in shabby bookstore in the outskirts of  Guadalajara, Jalisco. Hidden in between a dentist’s office and general store. More a house of books than a book store . 

I stumbled into this labyrinthian forest of words quite by accident. I was lost and needed directions when I spotted the general store. As good a place as any place to ask. But my attention was quickly drawn away by a a small rusted sign proclaiming the books store’s presence in bold red letters.

"AQUI HAY LIBROS." (Here are books)

A proclamation seemingly tailored directly at me.

I walked in through the low entrance and was greeted by piles on piles of books spilling across the floors. Scattered throughout the house, covering the floors, the stairs, the walls. Almost spilling out of the house itself.  A small clearing in between the stacks opened up a small pathway. The proprietor(a frail looking elderly man) sat in a courtyard, at the base of the book covered steps peeling an orange with his rough hands, unaware of my approach. I quietly greeted him.  He didn’t look up or acknowledge me immediately. Instead choosing to take a few moments to finish peeling his orange. When he looked up I was taken aback by how bright his eyes were. Shinning, vivacious. His voice was strong, clear, resonant.

"Que buscas, muchaho?"(what are you looking for boy?)

"Nada en particular, ando un poco perdido." (nothing really, I am just a little lost.) I replied.

"Pues, yo también, tal vez aquí encuentres lo que ocupes."(Well, so am I, maybe you’ll find what you need here.)  

He shakily stood from his perch, and began walking up the stairs; inviting me deeper into the maze.

I spent the rest of the day speaking with this man, eating oranges, talking literature, and reading.

Every time I look at the books I took home from there I am struck with immense joy, and an incredible longing to lose myself in the streets of my Home once more.


Oh reverend please can I chew your ear?

I have become what I most fear

And I know there’s no such thing as ghosts

but I have seen the demon host.

I’ve been obsessively listening to Timbre Timbre.

Naturally I have gathered much inspiration from them. I have a cool secret project I am working on. This song is partially responsible for this project’s inception. I cannot wait to share more with you all.

Stealthily snapped this portrait of my good friend Roro while on a location scout for a short film we are shooting this weekend. She was looking at the lighting of the place.

Side note: my homegirl here is a total badass.

We are shooting at a massage parlor! Cool right?

It’s crunch time though. Day one is creeping up on me. The next few days will be intense.


and Chava on film: A (platonic) love letter to my best friend.

CHAVA (chavasucksatpictures) is my best friend (for those of you who don’t know) and he’s a pretty awesome person. My relationship with him has been the closest I’ve ever had with any other human being. I was a bit of a loner as a child, and although I had friends, none I could call my BEST. So imagine my surprise when, after hanging out with this dude for months, I realized he was closer to me than anyone had ever been.

We met at school while taking a writing class at RCC in Riverside. The first few classes I didn’t really notice him because he was sitting at the back of the class. However, time passed by and I would listen to him speak. His ideas were interesting, and after a while I longed to be his friend. We ended up working on a writing project by ourselves, and when we skyped each night to work on it, we ended up talking about shared interests for hours into the night.

In one of our conversations he told me he had seen Aventurera, a 1950 cabaretera Mexican film. Let me say that again. He had seen a Mexican film from 1950. NO ONE I’D EVER MET HAD EVER SEEN A MEXICAN FILM FROM 1950. I was sold.

We understand each other extremely well. We protect each other as well. We have this deep bond that has only strengthened in the last months. We are often thinking the same thing, at the same time. It’s kind of creepy. But whatever, it gives us laughs.

He’s such a nice person, always kind and cheerful. A bit of a health nut (He used to run 40 miles on saturdays!). But most importantly of all, he’s helping me become a better person. In all honesty, I feel like a better human being because he’s in my life. 

Also AWESOME FUN FACT: His mother comes from the same town that my paternal grandmother was from in Jalisco, Mexico. And they have the same last name: Aguirre. So we’re pretty much fucking related. What are the freaking odds?

P.S. These pictures are from a 6.5 mile walk we took last week in Fontana, CA. Taken with a Blackbird Fly on 35mm Fujifilm.

This is beautiful Emmanuel. These images and this letter. This letter is the most beautiful thing I have ever received/read. As you are well aware I to love you dearly. Our friendship has been the strongest most engaging friendship I have ever been in and that sentiment only grows as time passes. I cannot wait to keep growing with you as person and as an artist. 

Let us go dance and frolic and be merry my dear dear friend.


Chava, you’ve been nothing but the sweetest, greatest, supportive, most understanding friend to me. I hope you know how much I truly appreciate you and our friendship. Our walks around Riverside where we share and vent, drink coffee, and wave our hands everywhere (because we both talk with our hands as much as our voice). Thank you for being happy for me, for empathizing, listening, looking out for me, for your insight and helpful advice. Thank you for introducing me to Tai food, informing me on plenty of things I haven’t learned yet, the tons of movie and band suggestions, your hospitality, and your friendship. You’re the best. 👓☕️

You will certainly be missed my friend. Bon Voyage. 

My dear friend Destiny( letsbe-still) is flying away to attend school in chicago. 

Vestigial Forms

Here at the precipice of madness I steel my gaze. Unfettered by the gaping chasm at my feet, this devil’s mouth gleefully awaiting its next meal. Ready to swallow the world. Beckoned onwards by silvery tongues. Into the abyss I fall.

The first photo is of my paternal grandparents. Circa 1950. It’s actually a postcard. How cool right?

The second photo is of my maternal grandfather(holding the horse’s reins) and his older brother. This is also around the 50’s.

Those men are my namesake.

I never met my grandfather Salvador. He was known to be an engaging and charismatic storyteller. He looms large in pockets of my mind. I wish i could have had the opportunity to sit with him and hear him speak to me. Tell me his tales.

My grandmother Sequndina Lives on to share his life with us. And she is a beautiful human being. 

My Grandfather Jose recently had a brain aneurysm rupture. It was terrifying. And we all thought that would be the end. But fortunately he recovered. Lives to tell another tale and experience another day.

I love these people.

This post is mostly irrelevant. I just wanted to share these two images with you all.