When asked, ‘What am I passionate about?’ my answer is simple: I am passionate about life itself. This isn’t a vague platitude; it means that whatever I’m doing in any given moment, I strive to be fully immersed in it. It’s my way of giving my all, dedicating my complete attention to the task at hand. For instance, if I’m playing soccer, I aim to perform at my absolute best. Should I find myself navigating a challenging moment in parenting, I commit to remaining level-headed and simply ‘being a father to my children.’ In essence, I strive to bring my utmost effort to every endeavor. This all-encompassing approach often leads to me being labeled a romantic, a title I wholeheartedly embrace. Yet, in contemporary times, the very word “passionate” has taken a turn for the worse, often misused or diluted. Similarly, within pop culture, particularly in movies and popular narratives, the term ‘romantic’ has been twisted into a significant misconception. It’s as if these powerful words, meant to describe profound engagement and deep connection, have been reduced to fleeting, superficial emotions or narrow, unrealistic ideals. My passion isn’t about grand gestures or dramatic pronouncements; it’s about the quiet, consistent act of showing up fully for each moment, finding meaning and purpose in the ordinary as much as the extraordinary. This, to me, is the true essence of living passionately and romantically in the broadest sense of the words.
The Misappropriation of “Passionate” When we understand “passionate” as a state of profound emotional engagement, deep enthusiasm, or powerful drive, its contemporary misuse becomes glaringly evident. Unfortunately, this nuanced and powerful word has been threading its way through pop culture, movies, articles, and even comics, often stripped of its true meaning and applied to scenarios that fundamentally contradict its essence. The most egregious misuse comes into play when “passionate” is incorrectly deployed to describe angry or violent situations. Consider how often we hear phrases like “a passionate argument” or “a passionate rage” to describe outbursts of aggression. This is not passion. This is anger, frustration, or even raw, unbridled violence. Passion, in its true sense, while intense, is driven by love, conviction, or profound devotion – not by destructive intent or uncontrolled fury. Attributing “passion” to acts of violence or malicious behavior perverts the word, lending it a legitimacy it doesn’t deserve and blurring the lines between fervor and hostility. Similarly, the word is often misused to annotate violence itself. When a character in a film commits an act of brutality, it’s sometimes described as being “passionately executed” or driven by “passion.” Again, violence is violence. It is an act of force or aggression, often intended to cause harm. True passion, even when intense, fosters creation, dedication, and profound connection, not destruction. The truth shall never meet: violence and genuine passion are fundamentally antithetical. Furthermore, we sometimes see “passionate” used interchangeably with profanity. When expletives fly in a heated moment, they might be labeled as “passionate language.” But profanity is simply profanity – strong, often offensive language. While it might convey intense emotion, it doesn’t inherently embody the deep, fervent commitment or profound enthusiasm that defines passion. To equate a string of curses with “passion” strips the word of its inherent dignity and depth, reducing it to a mere descriptor for intensity, regardless of its source or nature.
Do you remember your favorite book from childhood?
My Favorite Books from Childhood When asked, “Do you remember your favorite book from childhood?” it’s tough to pick just one, because two distinct books truly shaped my early years in different but equally profound ways. One novel I remember vividly from my childhood is “Stone Soup.” This timeless story really stood out to me for its magical, creative qualities and its wonderful simplicity. While I don’t recall every single detail, the ingenuity of creating a complete, full-course soup dinner out of “nothing” — materializing something truly amazing from “nothing” — is what stuck with me. It was a powerful lesson in resourcefulness and community that resonated deeply. My other favorite, and undeniably a massive source of inspiration, is ‘Showcase ’96’ by DC Comics. Like many young boys of my era, I wasn’t just an avid reader of DC Comics; I took immense pleasure in copying or sketching my own versions of the dynamic characters and thrilling scenes I found within its pages. This book wasn’t merely a collection of stories; for me, it was a constant source of artistic inspiration and a personal masterclass in comic book art. It truly fueled my passion for drawing and creating during those formative years.
I’ve been using WordPress since 2017. I started out of a pure, innate love of authorship, which for most of my formative years, I’d dismissed as a simple fondness for writing. This deep-seated passion has always been my driving force. I don’t hold a bachelor’s degree in liberal arts, linguistics, language, or philology, so it is with great conviction that I maintain profound respect for the aforementioned topics and genres. My journey underscores that a genuine appreciation for the craft can transcend formal academic training.
Hark, good sir or madam, for I shall endeavor to transform thy humble missive into a tapestry woven with the rich threads of Shakespearean prose! A Bard’s Musings on the Written Word Since MMXVII, when this fleeting age began, I have embraced the digital quill of WordPress. ‘Twas no mere whim, but a pure and innate love of authorship that stirred within my breast, a passion I, in my greener years, did oft dismiss as a simple fondness for the scratch of ink. This deep-seated ardour, I assure thee, hath ever been my guiding star. Though I boast no scholarly scrolls, no bachelor’s laurel in liberal arts, nor learned decrees in linguistics, language, or the venerable art of philology, yet with a conviction most profound, I hold these aforementioned topics and genres in highest reverence. Indeed, my journey doth plainly show that a heart truly given to the craft of words may yet transcend the bounds of formal academe.
I developed a natural fear of dogs after a terrifying incident when I was five. One typical hot, sunny day while playing outside my grandparents’ house in Mexico, a medium-sized dog mauled me. Even though I was so young, the memory is still vivid. I was with my siblings and cousins, and being the youngest and most curious, I wandered away from the group. Our house was on a private alley, a dead end, and as I neared the end, I saw the dog. It fixed its eyes on my tiny self and began to chase me. I ran, but my little legs were no match for its four. While I wasn’t horribly mauled or hospitalized, it did bite my leg and arm. For years afterward, I was incredibly fearful and cautious around dogs. It took a long time to overcome that fear. At the age of 25, on a routine vacation, we went to a Tianguis, which is essentially a miles-long flea market. The word ‘tianguis’ comes from the Nahuatl word ‘tiyānquiztli,’ which means ‘open-air market,’ and they have a history that dates back to pre-Hispanic times. Amidst the vibrant chaos of a massive open-air market, a true bazaar, I met him – my best friend for the next 15 years. He was a beautiful multipoo, all black fur, save for a perfect, diamond-shaped fleck of white on his chest.
My Life’s Journey At the age of 21, I made my home with my then-girlfriend, now my wife of more than a quarter-century. Together, we forged a path, operating a cell phone store in the vibrant heart of Spanish Harlem, Manhattan. This endeavor continued for four years, until a routine journey to Mexico brought me back with a most precious gift for my beloved: a charming little multipoo, whom she christened Raja.
