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This picture was taken in my fathers penthouse after my brothers place was burned down by his psycho girlfriend. My brother lost all his clothes, so my father set him up with some duds. circa 1994.

The paintings in the back represent original works of my father, Jesus Acosta Almazan. He was a founding member of the Chicano Art Group “Con Safos”. The art movement was forged in the late turbulent 60’s, coincidentally at the time of Cesar Chavez’s United Farm Workers Association call for grape boycotts.

My father loved to reproduce his own versions of famous works of the old masters. Degas,Cezanne, Manet,Monet represent a few favorites he often replicated in various mediums Oils, watercolors chalk and acrylics,matte paper and pencil where all favorite materials.

The clock you see brings back memories for me of afternoons in his company watching him work and enjoying his wisdom/advice. If you look closely there is a hand with 12 fingers.

“Los Hermanos Herrera.” Ish and Cesar La Villita circa 2002.

This was what my cousins grave look liked a day after his burial on October 19 2005.I now find myself by his grave weekly to pray and reminisce

My maternal grandparents, paternal grandparents, uncles, aunt and father are also buried close by. I visit the cemetery wherein they rest often and reflect.My cousin’s namesake is buried here. When I was a young boy I remember burying my Uncle Ismael Herrera.

During our time together. we would often ride our bicycles close to the cemetery where he is now also among my relatives. While pedalling I would ask him about his mortality. To no suprise, he was convinced that his youth equated to invicibility. He often mentioned that he was, “on top of his game”!

We were in accord about the idea of being buried amongst our relatives. The idea provided comfort when dicussed, as Ish felt it would be an honor to be buried next to his Uncle “Smiley”! His only condition was that he too must be buried at the base of a big tree, just like his namesake.

If you look closely at the pictures, you will see the tree that now provides me shade when I visit my cousins grave. My cousins preminition ripened and came to pass. I truly regret that my cousins request was honored.

This picture was taken the night of my cousins Rosary. The source of the glow in my heart confirms for me that life after death is real!

Ismael Herrera (Ish) met his demise in a fiery crash that consumed him and a peace officer on October 14 2005. He was an avid lover of automobiles and auto mechanics. He was just 22 years old but already a first rate musician, of course he was also my dearest friend.

If you knew my cousin, you would know that he was fond of BMW automobiles. M5 series are the models he admired most. He refurbished and repaired a few smaller 3 series which helped foster his love for mechanics and forge a deep respect for the engineering instilled in these fine autos.

On the night of his Rosary, my fiance and I stopped off at a roadside vendor for a quick bite after the service. I placed a to-go order & my fiance sat in the car and began to take snapshots of me. Her vantage point was from the comfortable reclinings of a 2003 black BMW M3 convertible. The car is not my regular ride, as it was on loan from my employer.

The day of recieving the BMW convertible M3 from my employer, I told my cousin about the prospect of having the car on loan. Frankly, he could not wait for the opportunity to get behind the wheel! We spoke about it the night he perished in that fiery crash. He phoned me at the office, and little did I know that would be the last time I would hear from him.

(When this snapshot was taken I had no jewelry on whatsoever. I was wearing a black two piece suit with a blue shirt, black tie with grey polka dots. No pens or metallic objects where in, or around my neck or chest.)