To Imagine – A Poem

We sat on the edge of nothing,IMG_1669
falling like stars,
destined to disappear.

Like strangers in the small hours,
watching the clock as time cowers,
threatened by what had yet to come.

So we stopped.
On the edge of nothing,
We simply created.


Isaac Olajos

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The Importance Of Family – A Lesson Each Has Taught Me

IMG_3919Our families define who we are whether we like it or not. My family plays a major role in my life and I am endlessly grateful for it. Although my cousins and aunts and uncles have contributed just as much, my family is so large I could only focus on the direct lines to myself.

Here is a lesson each one has taught me:

My Mother – Our lives are one big canvas. The more colours you add, the more unique the painting becomes. Not everyone will buy a “unique” painting, but the ones who do will find more meaning in each stroke than the painter had ever known. Cherish your colours, marry your collector.

My Father – No man ever broke from the crowd by working for someone else. You must pave your own road to walk on if you want to stand out. Take this path whether the road is paved with gold, or with dirt. We all desire to stand out, the only thing stopping us is our own fear of failure.

My Sister – Sometimes if you look at a simple thing a bit differently, it makes you hilarious. This also applies to success. If we look at the small things everyone takes for granted, we can see a piece of life that is virtually invisible. Taking advantage of these things and use them for your own gain.

My Brother – Competition is best used not against each other, but together against the world. Take on the world as a team, and the world is sure to lose.

My G.G. – Appearance only matters to those who do not affect your life. The age of your mind is the age of your body. Surround yourself with those who love you, and in them, you will live forever. After all, true beauty is how you live, knowing that there is an end.

My Grandma – No matter what happens in your family, they will still be your family. Accept them for who they are and you will have a happy, healthy life. Show them hospitality, and they will grow closer than one could hope for.

My Papa – Other than your children, your significant other is the most important person in your life. They will keep you grounded, pick you up when you fall, love you when you are at your lowest. Sometimes it may be hard, but the key to happiness: Listen to your wife.

My Granny – Love has no boundaries. It can exist in life, and in death. The people that we love make us who we are, and we should all be grateful for that.

My Grampy – There is no room among men for those who question themselves. A real man is one who knows he is not perfect, but never stops bettering himself.

Special Mention: My Dog – There is always room for something else to care about in ones life. Love is reciprocal. I love my dog, she loves me. This should be applied to people too, but we find that hard sometimes because they have their own opinions.

Happy arting,

Isaac Olajos

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Forward On; To Morning – A Dream Narrative

IMG_2599  A man stared into the distance. Cold fires sat in the sky, dethroning the sun. Its fingers cast the world in a dismal array. An oak railing sat on the edge of what seemed to be the end, holding us back from meeting it. The rail protested as the man lay his Burdens upon it. A bitter wind licked my tongue, lashing it for attempting to speak out of turn.

As I fell nearer, I could feel the air thickening like fog, yet I could see days ahead.  Something told me that he had something to say, to let me know that the world was enough for now, yet he gandered motionless, beyond the reaches of us: at an entity unknown.

My eyes followed the path his created. With every step, I scoured the horizon like a barren wasteland in search of water. I found none.

“Is it beautiful?” I said, teasing the age lines that the railing had held so proudly.

The man said nothing, but I knew he had listened. His leather skin bunched, splaying the stumps of hair on his jaw. His face came to life for a brief fragment of time. The light taunted the wear on his skin; leading eyes to the toll life had had on him. I touched my face as I felt age reflect onto me like a mirror.

His overworked hand rubbed the railing at his side, inviting me to rest. I could hear the callus wearing at the wood as he prepared Their final place. I too placed my Burdens on the oak, and with protest, it too accepted them.

His face glowed as he lit a cigar. The cherry began to illuminate as pulses of sweet smoke cleansed my senses. He let out a plume. It flowed along the path his vision had bore until it reached beyond what I could explore, filling the room of a place I did not know. The water hung beneath us, in a sleep tarnished by nightmares. Cars pulled the voice of the waves that reached out to the heavens. Replacing it with sickening sounds of metal and fire.

He reached out, pulling a thought from the air. Wrapping it around his fingers gently, lovingly, as if it was something he missed. I watched as his mind lifted from his body, returning to the only pleasures he once loved. In reappearance, he lifted himself from the rail. Gnarled grey hairs clung to the splinters in protest, but they were shunned. The rail did not resort back to its old form, spilling the mans Burdens back upon the earth. It held, like putty, it was silent. A streak of glowing red plummeted to the abyss below. A quick enjoyment, lost for eternity. The last scent flushed from my nostrils as its wake of sparks dissipated on to better things.

Turning, the mans bare feet scraped the well-trodden floors as he escaped the nights glowers. I lifted in haste; I knew he had an answer, yet the question had escaped me. As I left the still railing the only sound that challenged the putrid grind of automobiles was the scream of boards beneath my shoes. In that, I was rendered motionless.

I felt as though existence had absolved everything I owed, reanimating me, filling my lungs with cool crisp air like a frigid shower. I tried to reach out, to pull answers from the air like he did thoughts, yet I could not move. The world had turned me on its wheel until my walls could take no more; folded back into a ball I had to start anew.

As his thinning grey hair caught the last flicker of the fitful night, an inaudible sound bellowed from his chest, yet only I could hear.

“Come what may.” He said.

I didn’t need to know what might come, for I knew I would find it out, just as he once had.

-Isaac Olajos

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