I find it amusing, the quickening of the pace, the fast walking businessmen with their fancy little scarves, and the rushing taxis just skimming and accident. 10 years ago I wouldn't pay attention as much, probably because I'd be so locked up in slow motion that things like that just didn't exist. I guess as you age time slips by, and with that there is less and less to love about life. After much thought, and I mean at least a day or two of pondering, I believe there is much more to life than watching time engulf memories right before your eyes. So I write against the clock, inscribe my memories on anything I find to escape the tic of time. I listen and wait, chase my dreams and then fake how much I lost. So while that guy in the suit runs past me and the taxi driver misses my hand I will not be affected by the meaning of it all. We developed time, a man made recording of the sun rise and sun set. We have the power to create it but lost the power to control it. I find it amusing.
Another decade come and gone and still I contain my thoughts, bound to my mind in a final hope. Protected from the hourglass of forgetful actions and immune to the cheating digits. My clock strikes midnight, half the world shuts their lights off; my world begins its day. A true test of control, grasping the option of enjoying life, always living in slow motion. I rather be locked away in a frozen moment than lost and abandoned by that tic of time.
-J.Cazares
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Encountering a Shock (Personal Essay)
The term “culture shock” describes the difficult and sometimes disturbing experience of encountering different beliefs, customs, or practices in the process of moving from one culture to another. Although this may not be a popular experience for many, it does happen. In my own personal life, I have experienced this phenomenon at a young age when I first arrived in New York and had to face unexpected changes in my own culture.
I was born in Los Angeles, California and immediately moved to Puerto Rico due to the separation of my biological parents. Even though I was born in the United States, I was too young to make its’ customs and traditions my own. Instead, I became familiar with the Puerto Rican culture, including traditions, lifestyle, and even habits. It is noteworthy to add that the separation of my parents had a great effect on which culture I would become familiar with, for my Father was Mexican and my Mother was Puerto Rican. Both my sister and I went with my Mother and because of this; I was raised by my Puerto Rican side of the family. After years in Puerto Rico, my family moved to New York where I would encounter a “culture shock.”
My life in Puerto Rico and my new life in New York were in no way similar, and unfortunately, this caused some issues. I had become accustomed to my lifestyle in Puerto Rico, the noisy sounds of the forest wildlife, not having to wear shoes to run in the streets, beautiful weather all year round, even getting sick was different in New York. In Puerto Rico my grandmother was the family nurse, growing her own herbs and medicines in the garden in the backyard. In New York there was no such garden; in its replacement were needles and pharmaceutical drugs. Our family became quite different once we moved from culture to culture. Losing my medicine garden and my loud forest didn’t have that much of an effect on my life, however, losing our sense of “family” did.
Family life in Puerto Rico revolved around a strong connection and good communication. We ate meals together, confided in one another, and told each other stories, hung out with each other, essentially all aspects of life revolved around family. In New York, family traditions were much different. The family became separated and communication levels dropped. At first I couldn’t understand why the family oriented life we once shared fell apart, and then I realized it was because of our new lifestyle. New York was a fast paced city and there was not as much time for the family life we had in Puerto Rico. Time slipped away from every family member, whether it would be work, transportation, deadlines, and other things we never had in Puerto Rico. My initial reaction to this was anger and confusion. I felt emotionally frustrated not being able to confide in any family member and I found myself keeping most of my problems to myself. Looking back at this, I remember how difficult it was to replace a lifestyle. I no longer feel anger or confusion; however, I still have difficulty expressing myself to others, especially my family members.
Experiencing a “culture shock” was a true test of my mental endurance and I would not want to experience another. A tradition should never have to change once it has found its place in the heart of an individual. It should never be forced out and replaced because of the damaging effect this can have on a person. This cultural shift, that has long-lasting negative effects on the heart and mind, is what I like to describe as a “culture shock” I’ve endured it, and I carry it with me, every day since my encounter.
-J.Cazares
I was born in Los Angeles, California and immediately moved to Puerto Rico due to the separation of my biological parents. Even though I was born in the United States, I was too young to make its’ customs and traditions my own. Instead, I became familiar with the Puerto Rican culture, including traditions, lifestyle, and even habits. It is noteworthy to add that the separation of my parents had a great effect on which culture I would become familiar with, for my Father was Mexican and my Mother was Puerto Rican. Both my sister and I went with my Mother and because of this; I was raised by my Puerto Rican side of the family. After years in Puerto Rico, my family moved to New York where I would encounter a “culture shock.”
My life in Puerto Rico and my new life in New York were in no way similar, and unfortunately, this caused some issues. I had become accustomed to my lifestyle in Puerto Rico, the noisy sounds of the forest wildlife, not having to wear shoes to run in the streets, beautiful weather all year round, even getting sick was different in New York. In Puerto Rico my grandmother was the family nurse, growing her own herbs and medicines in the garden in the backyard. In New York there was no such garden; in its replacement were needles and pharmaceutical drugs. Our family became quite different once we moved from culture to culture. Losing my medicine garden and my loud forest didn’t have that much of an effect on my life, however, losing our sense of “family” did.
Family life in Puerto Rico revolved around a strong connection and good communication. We ate meals together, confided in one another, and told each other stories, hung out with each other, essentially all aspects of life revolved around family. In New York, family traditions were much different. The family became separated and communication levels dropped. At first I couldn’t understand why the family oriented life we once shared fell apart, and then I realized it was because of our new lifestyle. New York was a fast paced city and there was not as much time for the family life we had in Puerto Rico. Time slipped away from every family member, whether it would be work, transportation, deadlines, and other things we never had in Puerto Rico. My initial reaction to this was anger and confusion. I felt emotionally frustrated not being able to confide in any family member and I found myself keeping most of my problems to myself. Looking back at this, I remember how difficult it was to replace a lifestyle. I no longer feel anger or confusion; however, I still have difficulty expressing myself to others, especially my family members.
Experiencing a “culture shock” was a true test of my mental endurance and I would not want to experience another. A tradition should never have to change once it has found its place in the heart of an individual. It should never be forced out and replaced because of the damaging effect this can have on a person. This cultural shift, that has long-lasting negative effects on the heart and mind, is what I like to describe as a “culture shock” I’ve endured it, and I carry it with me, every day since my encounter.
-J.Cazares
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Choice
The option of my succession,
Acknowledged through everyday life,
The sight, the smell, the taste,
Obtained through experience,
I can feel the passion burning through my chest,
I can hear the voice of my own victory,
This victory over my own corrupted decisions,
The one's that left me crippled in my senses,
This great option before me,
With long hair and a deep glowing smile,
A pair of eyes to stare away figuritive nightmares,
A healing glance that has won me over.
I can no longer accept that there is an escaping route,
No bid farewell to a sensational emotion,
It could be exactly what I crave,
The fulfillment of my desires,
The fuel to burn a hole right through my expressions,
I scribble away thoughts of a chance I imagine,
A dedicated submission into a single opposition,
A surrender of my love to a single option,
Daydreams are my tool for reinactment,
Another chance to relive the great moments I experience,
Just a fool chasing the sun,
To end up following the moon,
To feel the warmth of a smile in the morning,
And the possible cold chill throughout the night,
The sky is the danger I must face,
To accept what is before me or to turn fast,
To run through the morning,
Or hide under a star filled night sky,
The stars that peer down at men and judge,
Calling out what chances we have,
Persuading our chances even if they are to fail,
In this instance I'll reside in the morning,
And take my chances at night,
I'll take this option before me,
I'll seek an untangled emotion,
Rooted to the ground for both day and night,
I'll take my chances.-
-J.Cazares
Monday, August 31, 2009
Xpress (Poetic Update)
Each second of expired time vanishes into a distant memory.
A thousand memories for that one person,
which vanishes with another timely expiration.
Time is the essential villain of forgetful actions,
tied underneath the legs,
gripping with a hard grasp.
It's never easy to escape a thought,
never easy to break free from thAt grasp.
Forever bound to the ocean floor,
yearning for the morning light.
Darkness haunts the memory lane,
with the tic of time on the outskirts of the mind.
The clock strikes each hour,
and each hour our transition becomes less and less obvious.
Where did the memories vanish?
The solemn hope thAt began so long ago is now just a silent trace,
forgotten everyday, gone in every way.
Time is not on the side of the one who is forgotten.
The one who lies on the floorbed of time,
chained to the errors and the faults that they never had.
The good used to perish young,
now they perish through time.
Never easy to perish,
never easy to be bound helplessly on a stopwatch of never ending time,
the course of which they can never fully control.
That is the expression of a single thought,
and this is the expression of a single memory.
A thousand memories for that one person,
which vanishes with another timely expiration.
Time is the essential villain of forgetful actions,
tied underneath the legs,
gripping with a hard grasp.
It's never easy to escape a thought,
never easy to break free from thAt grasp.
Forever bound to the ocean floor,
yearning for the morning light.
Darkness haunts the memory lane,
with the tic of time on the outskirts of the mind.
The clock strikes each hour,
and each hour our transition becomes less and less obvious.
Where did the memories vanish?
The solemn hope thAt began so long ago is now just a silent trace,
forgotten everyday, gone in every way.
Time is not on the side of the one who is forgotten.
The one who lies on the floorbed of time,
chained to the errors and the faults that they never had.
The good used to perish young,
now they perish through time.
Never easy to perish,
never easy to be bound helplessly on a stopwatch of never ending time,
the course of which they can never fully control.
That is the expression of a single thought,
and this is the expression of a single memory.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Business Website
I've been spending most of my hours trying to make a website for URBAN DEZINE. It's a lot harder than I thought, mainly because I'm not so familiar with web designing. Support me bloggers =D...I know I can take this somewhere new.
I'm actually getting a lot of comments and requests for designs so I'm looking forward to this creative era of mine. Let's see how far this will go.
This website is : www.urbandezine.yolasite.com
Check it out! And give me some feedback =D
-J.Cazares
I'm actually getting a lot of comments and requests for designs so I'm looking forward to this creative era of mine. Let's see how far this will go.
This website is : www.urbandezine.yolasite.com
Check it out! And give me some feedback =D
-J.Cazares
Express
The world of expression never found my street. I never held it in my arms, or kissed it goodnight. Expression may be the kryptonite to my very existence yet it lurks in the shadows waiting for my acceptance. I don't know what holds me back from entering this phase. It could be self doubt, or maybe I just lack the necessities. I think my childhood had a lot to do with my bottled up emotions. With no father to sit on or throw my burderns upon. Mom was working and gave me the love I needed for both parents. I had a sister but at that age you don't get along with one another. My only real father figure (which would be my grandfather) didn't speak english that well and I was losing my spanish. Friends didn't care about problems and girls made me too nervous. With everything attacking me at once I found myself learning to maintain my emotions alone. No late night phone calls with my best friend, or a pat on the back from a friend. I would've liked that so many times, but it never happened. I face it everyday, the idea that I can't speak my mind with the force that I want to. I'm always hiding behind my own face, deep under my skin.
Expression, I wish I knew what it meant. To me its just a phase I can't step into.
-Julian Cazares
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Mass Production
I'm slowly jumping back into the blogging lifestyle. Now that school is creeping back into my schedule I will find myself on the computer more, and thus, blogging. August 28th is a big day for me. I start my semester fresh, new friends new classes, and most importantly to me: the opening of my little business. I like to consider myself to be a creative person, however, I don't find boasting about your life to be something "worth" time. I keep my work on low radar because if everyone had it, it wouldn't be distinct. Now that I've expanded my creativity to a certain extent I believe it is time to come out of that force barrier and start producing my designs and printing my photographs. The company is called DeZine, simple and to the point. I do intend to hire some people who I believe to be the best at what they do, but for now I'm alone. DeZine is a Fashion/Photography company that specializes in sneaker designs, body art, tattoo designs, and photo shoots. I'm currently working on a website but for now I'll be creating a new blog site for my products and new creations ONLY. I'll keep it open for criticism because that's what motivates me =D.
For the time being, if you would like to request any of the aforementioned, you can contact me via email: jcazares21@gmail.com or by texting my cell: 718-924-3025.
Motto: If you have the vision, I'll show it to the world.
Julian Cazares
Urban DeZine
For the time being, if you would like to request any of the aforementioned, you can contact me via email: jcazares21@gmail.com or by texting my cell: 718-924-3025.
Motto: If you have the vision, I'll show it to the world.
Julian Cazares
Urban DeZine
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