Right, where do I start? Since I have left a few days go by on writing this story already, I reckon I will struggle to remember everything I discussed with Edgar, a poet, musician and a good friend of mine. That being said, one thing I can certainly say about him that resonated within my mind after our conversation is that he is such a talented individual, sadly, a very unusual case within his own surroundings.

I first met Edgar through his brother Luis who lives in the neighbourhood where I have hung out for years. 
Edgar comes from a humble background. Hi brother is into black metal music, a Scandinavian genre that is typically characterised by antichrist lyrics and worshiping satanic symbols. His Mom makes a living from organising workshops teaching origami. His Dad used to be a watchmaker who used to fix old clocks and watches but given the decline in demand, he was forced to closed the business and currently controls the traffic in a public carpark, what is known in Mexico as el ‘viene-viene’.

I am fascinated by Edgar’s knowledge and artistic creativity as he differentiates himself from most people in his estate where no encouragement is provided by the local council to direct people’s attention towards the arts and culture.

Although Edgar is a poet and a musician, he does not personally feel entitled to call himself an ‘artist’ as he does not earn a living from his talent. I must admit that I also don’t feel I have the credentials to call myself a photographer neither as I have hardly been able to live off of my profession. However, it’s wrong that we, people only feel comfortable to categorise ourselves as professionals based on a monetary achievement.

By profession Edgar is a graphic designer and used to draw comics; he was specifically interested in political ones but his interest died out after a few years.

Edgar tells me that he used to be quite motivated to attend literary circles and to get to know other poets and artists. He used to submit his own poems to competitions though he despises that world nowadays, as with time, he felt a constant rejection. He believes that all doors have been deliberately shut on him due to the fact that artists who are recognised within the scene, fear that someone with more talent than them will take their position.

He has tried to enrol on a few academic courses at prestigious schools to improve and learn under an academic guidance but obstacles are imposed on him to impede him from improving. He says, - they just don’t want me inside their circle.

As I listen to his thoughts, I can see some anger in his facial expression. I get the impression that his life has been surrounded by obstacles and the fact that others don’t take him seriously has shaped the way he sees himself. Perhaps his family has never believed in him; they have not bothered to seen the potential he has to achieve his goals.

As we exchange thoughts, he keeps mentioning all these intellectuals and musicians who have marked his life, from Beethoven to Mozart and other poet and musician’s names who I have never heard of, though he certainly admires and sees as a source of inspiration to break the monotony or the life around him.

Edgar’s voice breaks a little bit when he tells me slightly more personal issues that have affected his development. I can also see his eyes becoming watery. I can sense a deep appreciation from Edgar towards me for listening to him and that makes me happy. My internal reaction is that he feels a need to talk to someone about his anxieties and worries.

I keep listening to his analysis on music and poetry but I cannot help myself from drifting into my own thoughts about his life. It’s overly fascinating to me to see a guy like Edgar who is eager to learn and curious to ask questions, I repeat, not a common example in his neighbourhood sadly.

I fill my mind with questions on why it is that he became interested in classical music? why does he like poetry ? why is he interested in playing the piano? why does he like to read intellectual novels and philosophy ? why does he aspire to elevate his mind and spirit?

For a little while, Edgar used to recite poems and read stories on the train carriages of the metro to earn a living but he decided to quite, as passengers were sometimes rude to him or simply did not pay attention, tough job!!

He now plays the piano at the World Trade Centre every other Saturday for a few hours but it’s not really what he wishes to do in the future. His dream, I guess, is to play in an orchestra and publish his poems to a wider audience, although he has already published many of his pieces in books and other sources.

I thank Edgar for allowing me to enter his world and sharing a few aspects of his life with me. I am very impressed with his talents and I hope to hear more of his poems in the near future…