My Story
I was born sumer of 1980 on Chicago’s Southside.
I am the son of an Ecuadorian matriarch. I am also the son of a Mexican patriarch. My parents are legends in their own right. My brother Alejandro and I were both loved cared for and supported.
Parents split up when I was one though, so visiting dad were always fun times. My mother was strict on us but our father not so much. They were all good to me 99% of the time but we did have beef from time to time.
My first memories were anywhere from 18th Street, to 22nd and California, to 26th Street K-Town then west on Cermak into Cicero. That’s when things got real interesting.
Cicero was no joke. Not only were the gangs a problem there too, but the racist tensions were very high. Some white folks (and People) from Cicero were racist gangsters who also had needle tracks on their arms. Weekends in Cicero was something else I would see so many zombies.
In the 90’s white flight took effect but the gangs stuck around so did the drugs.
My mother didn’t let us wander too far from home, and living on a busy street like Cermak we were exposed to all the weirdos. I’ll never forget the time some old white creep offered to give my brother and I a ride home; but we knew he was on some sick shit that bastard.
We made our way though. My mother was heavy in her Bible studies but witnessing the world around us some things didn’t click. It was a constant paradox I had to question. Her belief systems clashed with what I was learning at school so I struggled in my environment.
As we all got older our friends one by one all turned to the allure of the gangs, some for the thrill, and some for survival. I mean gangs were out just to fuck shit up and then there was kids like me in self-defense mode. They killed my brother Alex though. He was only 18. Didn’t even get a chance. It doesn’t have to be this way for you shorty, this I promise you! Greener pastures are always ahead!
I believe this photo was September 1994. My brother Alex (white hat) was murdered that November in Cicero. Shorty was murdered years later on 18th street. Shorty has his right hand on my shoulder. I’m the chubby kid with the fighting Irish sweater. We used to have church outings and baptism’s by Fox River near Aurora back in the day. Church didn’t save some of us, or maybe it did who knows?
All in all this world is so beautiful…
Did I tell you how much I love photography? I also love taking pictures of flowers. They’re a beautiful reminder of how beautiful this world really is.
So in the midst of that I fell in love photography. My dad had some dope cameras, he had some nice 35mm’s SLR’s and the images were stunnin’. Then my mother bought me a camcorder and my life changed. My interest in movies grew. Now the only thing I want to do is produce… talking…moving…pictures!
Sometimes I feel like I’m on a mission from mars, but I know my mission is far grander than that. I’m more than some space traveler. I’m a movie maker a movie shaker. My goal as a producer is to re-create stories that count. I want to create movies that inspire, move, and motivate. Conscious love based films, not no fear based Hollywood shit. Love is our true essence. Love from darkness. Transmutation and evolution. I’m tired of Horror. Anyways thank you for reading this, and thank you for your support. I love you, now please support my work so I can make this movie! We’re making this for the shorties!
Make Art Not War