Pura Vida

About Ur Artist.....

Early morning you wake up to the sirens from Engine Co. 79 and the beeping horn from Ladder Co. 37 on the streets of Briggs Avenue. In the Bronx where I was raised. I live with my mother and sister and this is my journey. March 27 1987 I was born and for the rest of my life i will always remember from graphically being reminded from the victim "my mother". The Hours of labor my big 9 and a half pound ass put her through and the best part is how the doctor had to cut her up to get me out. I would give her a standing ovation. I do not know how a women can go through that. I have yet to figure out my gift, my reason for living I cant ask my father to help me with that due to the fact he left before i was born. You assume how can that happen to an innocent child but the fact was that i was latino. I am Puerto Rican and Costa Rican but grew up an american and know a lot more english than spanish that really fu*ks sh*t up for me in the future not being able to communicate with my own kind. I know spanglish the capabilities to say "Abuelito is drunk on the sofa in la sala" "otra ves". My fathers side is Costa Rican he was raised on the carribean side of Costa Rica. The Latest facts on his birth was that mi abuelita was a prostitute to make ends meet and banged an English dutch sailor. Sounds more exciting than the one before where it was a colombian sailor. So theres my father with no father either.
Growing up my sister and i went through a lot of wannabe dads but none really stayed around long enough. There was Joe, whom I grew up thinking was my real blood father. He was the father to my younger sister Joly and he raised me as his own, but in the end mom and dad didn't see eye to eye. Alone again us three so we decided to move and start a new life. We grew up looking out for each other and family was always near. cousins were always down the block we lived off of Fordham Road near university ave. then near Bedford after that Briggs ave. The holidays was the golden days all of us together the food was plenty and the love was all over the apt. Yes apartments sorry there was no picket fence or backyard wit a tree house and rabbits. I always wanted a tree house and rabbits, I mean i tried having rabbits but one drowned because i left him on the fire escape for air but while outside it rained and i didn't know. You get the picture on top of that the other rabbit didn't get enough water and died of dehydration. I was devastated. I loved those rabbits and I knew how it felt to lose something.
The phone rings but mom doesn't want me to pick up because she knows I can recognize my real fathers voice so i don't pick up. The closest i ever got to a good day with my father was when i was 4 and he secretly picked me up from my abuelita's house and took me to the park. Not any regular day at the park he was caught selling deadly drugs while taking me out for a walk in central park. Ever since then he has been dodging the government on paying thousands in child support, Thanks dad. If you find this guy I give you the right to hit him square in the nuts. I somehow inherited his full name the english version the least. His is Alejandro Antonio Corella, mine in Alex Anthony Corella I hate that name. I grew up being called Cruella Devil from the movie 101 Dalmations.

"There was much influence and guidance through out my life but I was also fooled by blood thirsty wolves in disguise. The greatest mother in the world cannot teach a boy how to be a man I have to fight these demons on my own and build my kingdom with these bare hands."

Some art for the Mind