The Art of Brownsville - Questions Chicano Art and Immortality

"Here we are - ese" -the borderland, the land of as they say "diverse culture"- dos culturas, "que se siguen desaparesiendo dentre una alotra", the land of the New Chicanismo pride - baught my tacos at the Stripes, the land of "quien trabaja como guey to barely pay the rent- y esos que viven chupando el sistema con las estampillas", the land of making money , dollares, y credit cards -forgot to go to church on Sunday", the land of compadrismo and dirty politics mordidas for those que alcancen, the land where we grew up is the land who made me who I am.

The idea was irritating, like a bad hangover. I sat at the end of my bed wondering about my youth. The picture faded into a nude expression in the haunting eyes of the young and innocent. As kids we played in the flooded streets after days of rain, without fear of drowning in the opened drains the neighborhood watchers kept so that the waters receipted. I had always wondered what if I had drowned in one of those opened drains and my life existed only as a memory some how gliding in the whistling wind, perhaps so careless of time.