it looks just like the sun.

archives.

A Memory 6. You Were an Ocean.

what do you see? you ask. whisper. i am halfwake and halfway in the ocean. gurgled seafoams.

tell me what you see. what is keeping you awake.

i see light. the rest is dark. you are wrapped in lines.

venetian blinds make like clouds and hide us from the neighbors.

i hope by morning i can spit up the sand in my mouth and tell you you are beautiful.

photo from some time ago.

untitled.

photo from the archives.

"Each set of journalistic eyes is conditioned and shaped by family upbringing, church and school training; is invariably limited by time, place, and the specific condition of the writer's social development; and is inevitably stamped with the unconscious imprint of his or her class, race, and gender. Each set of eyes necessarily becomes a flawed prism, partial or subjective by its very nature, through which the writer filters and then recreates an exceedingly complex reality. The battle to record history as it happens — from a divergent, sometimes unpopular view rather than from a consensus perspective already diluted by self-censorship — is the essential challenge to journalists in a modern capitalist democracy."

Juan González, Puerto Rican journalist who covered the LA Riots