Who the hell are these Mexicans

I have to thank Donald Trump. Who's words were the incentive I needed to visit and meet such interesting warm and inspiring 


History gives birth to textures and forms. The subtle textures and unexpected moments of perfect fleeting frame structure are tantalizing to my eye. I believe what I love most about a country, a town, a culture are the people and the personalized sense of place they make their own. Some might see old walls ascue with wires dangling and pavement uneven. To quote the great poet Leonard Cohen "There is a crack in everything. Thats how the light gets in"

What I discovered in Tepoztlan Mexico is that people are as beautiful, as intelligent, as complicated as they are anywhere else I've travelled to. We were invited into houses to share food and share stories, laughter and music. We were invited to meditate to venture into the desert and experience travelling "out of our bodies" with Peyote. I never once heard a television, saw a car going faster then 30km/hr, heard someone yelling at someone else. I did hear stories of people to be aware of. People who float in the dark bushes on the side of the road. People who are desperate and will steal or kidnap or kill. But I only heard about them.

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