Architect turns Artist “Watercolor has meant for me the ideal medium to express what the spirit cannot do through words.” – Ricardo Sánchez. Ricardo Sánchez is living his dream! I met him at the recent Ajijic Artwalkers 2026, saw his work and predicted great things for him. Born April 18th, 1992, in Milpa Alta to
PROFILE – RICARDO SÁNCHEZ CORONA Read More »
My sister was a twenty-two year-old South African freedom fighter. On July 9th, 1964, in the dead of winter, she and her husband fled Johannesburg on a motorbike. During the height of Apartheid, with Nelson Mandela in prison, Hilary and Ronnie belonged to the African Resistance Movement (ARM) whose aim was not to be terrorists
A HARROWING JOURNEY – a true story Read More »
Daniel had been looking forward to it all day. The movie would start at 7:30 pm, and he planned to meet his girlfriend, Angelina, in the mall shortly after 7 pm. He was wearing his blue jeans jacket, sporty trousers, and sports shoes. He looked good and he knew she’d notice. He glanced at his
A Brush With Death Read More »
Gabriel Blair describes her first experience of attending a Mexican Wedding in a village. [Editor’s note: Mexican’s are often married twice. The civil wedding is the only wedding the state recognizes. The “religious wedding.” Is what is described here.]
A Mexican Village Wedding Read More »
A Tourist In Russia (Part Two) By Gabrielle Blair May 9th, Victory Day: I’m in the main hall of the Mayakovsky Metro station in Moscow, our pre-arranged point for meeting Sergei and Yulia. It is one of many constructed in the 30’s that feels like a palace, intended as such. Why shouldn’t the transport
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A TOURIST IN RUSSIA(Part One) By Gabrielle Blair I ask myself how I can sum up my impressions of a month in Russia without sounding like a travelogue. Better to focus on a few special events. One hears again and again that one shouldn’t judge the rest of this vast country by the prosperity
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The Dream Homeless. Footloose. I met him quite by chance.I taught him to ride a bike,My bike,Shiny, new – white, with many gears.Wobbly, insecure, a big child,Smiling his toothless grin,Laughing his achievement. He disappeared with my new bike.Long after, he returned,The bike now black and worn.Ragged seat too high for meAnd another seat attached
The Torn Flag Flapping limply on broken string,Its power gone, merely a thing.Symbol of country, of honor and glory,Marched into battle, tells many a story. But what if the barriers dividing our landsNo longer were needed, instead, linking hands,We’d lower the poles flying separatist flags,Stop fighting each other, they’d soon become rags,No more to
The One-Eyed Boy By Gabrielle Blair Today my heart aches from too much plenty. Irritation, anger, fear weighs me down. The tears stored up push like a tidal wave against a fragile dyke. I stroll the impersonal city streets and see the desolate lives of the infirm beggars, forlorn, patiently extending their plastic cups
Goodbye Christmas By Gabrielle BlairJanuary 31, 2018 Hiking up the mountain on the Tepalo Waterfall route, one bright early December morning, three young Mexicans passed me on their way down. They were carrying a large, leafless branch that they had hacked off a dead tree. This was to be their Christmas tree. Ours was
