Oaxaca

Although the daily blog plan obviously failed, the reason is valid.

Ive been consumed by too many sangrita and tequila shots, mercados with an extreme amount of onions, salted grasshoppers, and bags made by prisoners, quesadilla lunches hiding behind marigolds, drunken lucha libre brawls, animal markets with howling hogs and little Guadalupe inviting us to her ranch, small pueblitas selling wooden animals influenced by magic mushrooms, and of course fantastic photographic critiques, some incredible work, and a dysfunctional family.

And Dia de Los Muertos hasn't even kicked off yet.

Oaxaca is a reinforcement of how life should ideally progress. The public displays of affection and young families wondering the markets at night have reminded me that love doesn't have to be the confusing mechanical process that it is in New York. In NYC, we have a tendency to obfuscate what should ideally be simple-- familial connections, the sensation of falling in love, watching your child play-- but here, in the poorest state in Mexico, I have encountered individuals speaking about the great love for life, their blessed children, their wonderful wife. As superficial as it may seem, people are consistently smiling. David and I were shooting images of children in the main plaza, having pleasant conversations with the mothers and fathers, instead of facing the paranoia and legal concerns of New York...every single cab driver has opened himself up, telling stories of magic mushrooms, coyote crossings to America, or where the best Dia de los Muertos cemeteries are, instead of ranting angrily about the credit card machine.

As Americans, we have been fed a supersized meal about Mexico and its population... but the reality is overtly apparent. Mexican culture is deeply rooted in compassion, disregarding extreme individualism for the betterment of the community and family. And after a long dose of New York, this is beyond refreshing.


A few more images to get a feel for the past few days...