Esteban Luis Soto

On my long, daily commute today I thought about love, dating and relationships. Mine in particular. I've said it before that I've been very lucky in the woman that have chosen to date me. For the most part they've all been wonderful women (with the exception of one or two) but I don't elude to the fact that my soul-mate has already come and gone.  I may not be with her at the moment but that doesn't change the fact. I think that's the case for most of us, isn't it? I honestly believe that soul-mates find each other throughout different lifetimes and each time are only slightly aware of their previous life together. Sort of like that "I know you from somewhere" feeling each time they meet. It's a beautiful thing if you really think about it. A continual love affair that the cruel hand of time can't destroy (like it does everything else). However, please don't mistake having a soul-mate as not having the ability to love otherwise. I hav

The roommates subtle snore The soft jingle of the cats bell The click and warm push of the heater The sad sighs of traffic...like waves        Am I this to be? This social reclusion Hidden in plain sight The ignorance of my exhale The ghost in the room       Am I always to be this? Oh! Those elusive gardens of joy That escape my gaunt gaze And reject my seed, how May I reap what they sow?!       I am more than this! Still you stand aside and behind The cattle prod to my lethargic ego, The rich soil that slumbers and waits... To ripen all I hope to be       Are you to be this? Esteban Luis Soto 2011

There are three categories of people in regards to Santa Fe; those who just get it, those who just don't get it and those who act like they get it. Yes, Santa Fe can be a bit of a cliche' in its extravagance, expensive properties and over-the-top hotels but there's a whole other side of it that most people (mainly tourists) don't get to see. It's beyond the historic square and far into the bowels of its crooked, narrow streets. It's the world of people who "just get it." I love Santa Fe. That's no secret, especially to my closest friends who roll their eyes every time I say its name or sing its praises. I'm one of those that "gets it." Why do I get it? I'm glad you asked. Being the artsy/creative type I feel drawn to Santa Fe's spiritual epicentre just like many of my kind do. As cheesy as it may sound, when you arrive there you just feel it. There's no other way to describe it but that way and no amount of descriptions

If I remember correctly, I was a frail 18 year old boy lifting miniscule weights, in my parents garage, when I heard that voice. That unique, crooning melody that weaved its way ever so warmly into the core of me and changed my life. Before that moment I was knee-deep into the "Latin Freestyle" movement but had begun to grow weary of it. My friend George had just introduced me to "New Wave" and it opened up a whole new world to me. A world I felt more comfortable in. A world where my skin seemed to fit a bit better around my thin bones. He threw names like "New Order and The Cure" at me that didn't mean much until I heard their songs. Songs that I had never heard before but somehow felt so familiar. I digress. The mix tape was playing and I believe I was in the middle of curling all but ten pounds when I was stopped dead in my tracks. "Call me morbid, call me pale/ I spent six years on your trail/ six long years chasing your tail." "Ex

My dearest El Paso, Will our paths never stop crossing? I keep leaving you yet you keep welcoming me back with open arms, even though I’ve been infidelious to you. I’m sorry I left you for Austin and Santa Fe but you have to understand that they were both just so beautiful but only on the outside. Unlike yourself, however, where the beauty comes from within. What is it that makes me keep coming back to you? Could it be your beautiful sunsets or that imperfect smile? Maybe it’s the way you bathed me with pure moonlight and covered me in starry skies at night? Perhaps it was your loving parents and grandparents and their importance of family and delicious food? I just don’t know. It could be all or none of the above. I’m just happy to be back in your embrace. El Paso, I really want to make this relationship work but there has to be compromise on your part. First of all, you have to do something about your children’s haircuts. That uniformly (pun intended) accepted military style ha

Four Dead in Five Seconds. John Wesley Hardin. Dallas Stoudenmire. No, that’s not the latest Juarez murder statistic and those aren’t the names of poor gringos that have lost their lives while vacationing in Mexico. They are all significant parts of our past that go largely unrecognized. Fifty percent of you reading this probably have no idea what I’m talking about and that saddens me. The Four Dead in Five Seconds gunfight made the O.K. Corral’s look like a schoolyard brawl yet there is no evidence of it on the streets of downtown. John Wesley Hardin was a notorious Old West killing machine that met his demise with a bullet to the head in the Acme Saloon that is now a dollar store. Yes, you heard me right…a dollar store! While living downtown, I’d often sit on the ledge of my loft and imagine ol’ Dallas, as proud and tall as he was, prowling the dirt roads, drunk out of his mind, as outlaws shied in the shadows of saloons and saddle shops. On many nights I could have sworn I heard h

On my long daily commute, to and from work, I often have time to reflect on days past, the day to be and days to come. It so happened that, on this day, my train of thought fell upon the cruelty and beauty of time. The cruelty being that I've recently had to see the harsh decline of my dear uncle due to Alzheimers. It's stripped him of his manhood, his individuality, his continence and the inability to recognize his loving wifes face. The once strong, loving father and husband is now at the mercy of this disease and resides in a nursing home. Time has also stripped my dear aunt of her life-long love. Her childhood sweetheart. Her hero. On a personal level, the cruelty has been in the seemingly extension of days, a new wrinkle every month, the toll of past regrets and missed opportunities (as a result of bad timing, incidentally). However, the cruelest blow that time has dealt me, is the inevitable realization that my dear and loving parents will eventually leave this plane. A

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