Carlos "Los" Castro

Virtuoso guitarist. Vocalist. Songwriter. Storyteller.

I’ve been trying to get local musician Carlos “Los” Castro in the studio for about a month. Finally we set a date. And then I had food poisoning the day before. Not a good start. I was feeling weak and unprepared. I didn’t tell him because I knew he'd feel sorry for me and want to reschedule. But, I’d really been looking forward to this shoot for a while, so I pushed through. I'm glad I did. 

Los told me a story about his first real guitar and the old man that let him borrow it for 6 years. He started strumming his guitar and singing like the old man with this old time blue grass twang. Just pickn’ and grinin’. You could see how much he loved that old guitar and that old man. And the loss in he’s eyes when he said how the old man had passed away. 

Los told me about traveling to Chile with his mother, and how it changed his life. He told me about the wonderful people who love him. He told me of some of his regrets. You could see the depth of his feeling in his eyes and in his face. And that is why I wanted to photograph him. When you look at Los, you know there’s a story there. A story you want to listen to. You should really go check him out at  www.loscastromusic.com

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Los talks about his first Guitar

"My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun," - Shakespeare

What could be more common than the moon? And, yet the commonness of it doesn't distract from miracle that it continues to rise. How lost we would be without it! How we would moan and beat ourselves in lamentation if it were to disappear. But we still take it for granted, night to night, rarely noticing or considering it. Perhaps as rare as a blood moon eclipse, is pausing and really seeing something. 

"I would gaze at your face the whole night through
I'd go out of my mind, but for you" — Gordon Sumner (aka Sting)

Even Old Dogs Like a Morning Swim

Mabel, my 15 year old Lab, reminds me how to live. In a storm she curls up in a warm spot and waits patiently. Eventually the sky clears. The sun returns and all is well. 

Patiently she awaits at the door, with a smile and a kiss. She's happier to see a friend than she is to get a new toy. And she knows that there is nothing better than a morning swim (well, except peanut butter - there is nothing better than peanut butter).