“Chasing the Fault”
It called to us
from the briny waves of the Pacific to the dry dusty town of El Paso,
Texas where we languished in poverty
Luring us to the gold-paved streets of California which
of course did not exist
And so at age twelve, I came with my family by train with nothing but suitcases in hand
And started a new life in Califas
From one barrio in ‘Chuco’
to another in ‘Santana’
where the its slow rumblings taunted us from time to time,
teasing me with its threat of destruction and possible death
As a married man it slowly drew me and my wife closer to its center
We followed the Santa Ana River to the orange grove haven of Riverside
then to Box Springs Mountain in MoVal, the fastest growing city in Southern California in the 90s
a sleepy commuter town under which the fault lay dormant,
but made its presence known from time to time
reminding me of its inevitable rupture
But it still wasn’t close enough
It called us closer and closer
Closer to the Chocolate Mountains of Mecca in the Coachella Valley
where it dares to show its beauty and splendor in the Painted Canyons
Then to the Salton Trough in Imperial Valley
where the peace and quiet and clear star-filled night skies makes
it easy to forget that it lies under the waters of a sea which itself is 120 feet below sea level
It is so close, so near
So here I wait anxiously
Now I’m the one taunting the fault
Stalking its hiding places, photographing any evidence of its existence
Urging it to wake from its slumber
So we can get it over with and go on with our lives
~ Carlos Garcia
LAND-ARTPROJECT COLLABORATION 
Poem by Carlos Garcia
Music by DjR3X
Photography by Carlos Garcia & Jacalyn Lopez Garcia
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“My First Earthquake”
Poem by Carlos GarciaMy father was not an affectionate man.
Not when I was young, nor when I was a teen.
He just wasn’t.
One morning in ’66
I rose early from a small twin bed to get ready for school
My dad sleeping across from me
My parents and I shared a small bedroom in a small house
My mother making breakfast in the kitchen
As I reached the closet
The ground shook violently under my feet
and I fell backward losing my balance
But my head did not touch the floor
my dad had lunged out of his bed
and landed on his side in time to cushion my fall
For a few seconds he cradled me in his arms
My first earthquake in California
My first and only embrace from my distant father.