the ecosystem of Armando H.

https://linktr.ee/armandoH220

the ecosystem of Armando H.

I don’t have a huge platform but I would really like to change that. Most of my time is spent writing; poetry, short stories and the second novel to “the roots of a pine.” A three-book series, I’m looking to get edited and published.

Book 1. The Roots of a Pine

Book 2. The ecology of Forest Clemons

Book 3. I walk on moss

The thing I love about writing is how someone is able to turn the hardships they’ve been through into universal lessons of learning and growth. I have actively taken on these attributes, of nature, of taking on a challenge and turning it into something positive.

My books, poetry and short stories, reflect this, each chapter is able to stand on its own, I love how in my writing’s problems are created, resolved and internalized. My hope for anyone who reads my writings, is that you are in complete control over your life, that you have the ability to rise above any situation and overcome it, to have hope in others, to not give up but to work and create something you can be happy with.

My book “the roots of a pine” does just that, written in first person prospective, it follows the life of Forest Clemons, a 23 year-old boy, who is given the power to manifest anything he wishes with just a single thought. Not knowing how everything is so delicately tied to his emotions and well-being, Forest has to learn to bring himself into balance with nature. All well dealing with his love interest Derek Stangler, the death of his mother, and the manipulative corporation OpCo that has him tied down.

I love experiencing, taking memories and immortalizing them, my hope is to get the three books published, to write a short poetry book and to create songs that match. Below is a short snip from my first chapter of the roots of a pine.

Chapter 1 ecosystem

mid chapter---(Leaving the church with Jen by my side we drove home in silence. I hated that I was still treated like a kid by Ray. Ray was my mom’s only sibling; my mom knew how to deal with her better than Jen or I did. Jen had the option to go live with our grandpa and grandma in New Salem, but due to the cost of raising a kid now days. Our mom thought it best that we live with Ray for a year. I had wanted to get my own apartment and suggested to my mother that Jen could stay with me, but my mom had said that we needed to spend more time with family after our grandparents had passed away only six months ago.

Our cousin Rachel who lived in Alexandria Minnesota, had wanted to take Jen in as her own for some time now. I’d be heading off to Seattle after I graduated. Our mom would be in Fargo, not too far from Jen. I’d been meaning to bring this up to her for some time, but as time kept passing, I found it harder and harder to even think about our separation, so I pushed it off for the both of us.

“Hey, do you want to have lunch somewhere? It’s nice out.” I looked around at the blue sky.

“Like a picnic?” Jen looked up at me and shielded her eyes from the sun.

“Like a picnic.” I smiled. “I’ll go grab a blanket and some food.”

At the house, we got what we could. Jen quickly put everything in plastic bags and stood by the door, far before I was even ready. “I’ll be there in a sec,” I said, smiling at her from the bathroom.

As soon as we got into the car, Jen asked, “So where are we going?”

“Far away from here.” I smiled and put the car in reverse.

“Is it the old school?”

Looking over at her, I raised my eyebrows. “Maybe.”

“That’s a yes.” She looked out her window.

“How do you know?” I asked, driving out of the small dust covered cluster of houses we lived in.

“Because you’re bad at lying, and not good at keeping secrets.” Jen grinned.

“Hey! I’m a great liar.” I said.

“No. Your face turns a little red and you don’t make eye contact, your hands get all shaky. So, you put them in your pockets. Your anxiety gets the best of you.”

“How do you know me so well?” I took a right to find a small gravel road that led to almost the middle of nowhere. Birch Tree Butte was just that, 5 miles West of Green Grass Grove, it was a small hill surrounded by a stream that almost completely circled the old school we were going to.

“Do you remember the first-time Mom brought you out here?” Jen asked looking over at me from the passenger side.

“Like the back of my hand.” I smiled at her. “It was a day like this one, nice and cool out, you weren’t even born yet and Dan was still in school. I had gotten sick over the weekend.”

~*~

Getting out of the cracked-dashboard, sun-heated, leather-scented car and throwing a brown backpack over her shoulder, my mom smiled at me. Following in her footsteps. Past a rusted barbwire fence and up two dirt paths worn into the earth, she led us up a slight hill covered in tall golden grass. A cool wind wiped away the sun’s heat. I freed my hands from my hoodie’s pockets and unzipped it. Coming into a clearing of six trees that surrounded what looked like the foundation of an old building. No longer standing except for a few wooden beams, its skeleton looked old, forgotten and warped from the sun’s summer heat and the winters’ bitter cold.

“What, what is this place?” I called out to her, slowly circling the lonely rotting ruins.

“Your grandma and grandpa used to go to school here when they were about your age.”

My mother said after she had found a short green grass patch covered in shade and sat down.

“How long ago was that?”

“About fifty-nine years ago. Oh, and watch for nails and glass.”

“Did you ever go here?” I called out, still circling the small one-room schoolhouse.

“No, this was long before my time,” she answered as I finished my investigation in only a few sideways steps. I tilted my head at my mother, who had unpacked her backpack of food, a blanket to sit on, a small radio and a book. “But your grandma did bring me out here when I was about your age. It was in a little better shape. I used to come here almost every day just to escape.”

I sat down next to her.

“I made your favorite,” she said. “A baloney sandwich and chicken noodle soup.”

“Ma, what’s your favorite food?” I looked over at her.

Smiling at me. She took a breath and pushed the stray strands of hair behind her ears. “I think it’s this. I can see why you like it, and it’s a good combination.”

“Mom? What, what if I marry a man one day?” I asked my hands shaking a little.

Pausing for a moment, she tilted her head at me. “I don’t know Forest. I hope he’s kind to you.”

“How will I know him when I find him?” I looked up at her.

“He’ll. He’ll have a cape.” She picked up the Superman action figure that had fallen out of my hoodie’s pocket. “He’ll have the best smile, one meant just for you; he’ll be handsomely tall, have a golden S, and he’ll be strong.”

I looked at the trees that surrounded us. “Strong like a tree?”

“Like a forest,” my mother’s voice echoed.

“And when you’re lonely, he’ll make you feel like you belong.”

“I’d like that,” I heard myself say. Looking up at the small purple flowers that grew on the rafters of the old school, they danced in the wind, held to the decaying wood by green moss. That’s an odd place for flowers to grow, I thought.

Speaking in a softer voice, my mother hesitantly looked at me. “But before all of that, Forest, promise me something.”

“What’s that?” I lowered my eyebrows and looked at her lonely smile.

“Forest, when you find yourself standing next to him, and he makes you question if your love is good enough, just close your eyes and pretend you’re here next to me in this moment. Promise me that you’ll know who you are before you find him, that you’ll be the best you that you can be, so if he ever, if he ever leaves… you’ll still have you, and know your love is always good enough.”

“I promise,” I said, not quite understanding what she meant.

After we finished our food, my mom nodded for me to curl up next to her as she opened one of the books she had brought. I let myself drift off to sleep to the sound of her voice.

I shot up. Rubbing my eyes, I blinked hard, almost panicking. “Ma?” I noticed a small blue sticky note on the book she had been reading: I’m over by the stream directly north. Come on over when you wake up.

Running my hands over the tall golden grass, I headed north toward the small stream that cut into the grasslands, winding like a snake through the hills. The smell of grass and water filled my lungs. As I came up to a half-grass, half-dirt embankment lined with shrubs, I could see my mom standing next to the stream. I found a steep path and slid down.

Walking up to me and smiling, my mother half laughed. “Forest, there’s a dirt path you could have walked down just there.” She pointed to her left.

“What fun is that?” I smiled.

“Silly boy. Come here, I want to show you something.” She pulled some rocks out of her pockets, set them down in a white rag and turned them over one by one in her hands. “Look at this one.” She turned it over. It had a perfectly round hole in its side. “Cool, right?”

“What about that one?” I pointed to a random one.

Holding it up, she directed my attention to a small red spot on the completely white rock.

“And that one?” I pointed to a half-broken rock still covered in dirt.

She fumbled for the other half. Dipped it in water and put it in my hands. As I turned it over, a small gold flake glinted in the sun. “That’s cool,” I muttered.

“Yeah.” She picked up the other half and put them together as a whole. “They’ve been together for so long I think if I separate them, they’d get lonely.”

“Yeah, but Mom, these are just rocks, they mean nothing.” I watched her smile fade from her face. She stood up straight and walked a few feet away from me. Guessing from her reaction that I had said something wrong, I looked back down at all the rocks she had collected. “Mom, I’m sorry for saying that.” I walked over to her.

“It’s okay. Here.” She handed me the two halves of the rock with the gold flake. “Now you can start your own collection of beautiful things.”

9:45 p.m.

Jen, pulling out a bag of chips she started eating.

Letting my eyes fall with my heart, I peeled my dry lips apart. “Hey, so I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What’s that?” She looked a little worried.

“I’m not going to do this the way mom can, but I’ll try my best. You know I’m going to Seattle in August, right? Well, that’s where I’ve been applying for jobs, anyway.”

“Yeah.”

“Jen let’s be honest. You don’t like staying with Ray just as much as I don’t, so Mom and I talked, and we think it’s best that you go and live with Rachel.”

Jen looking up quickly, looked confused. “Over in Minnesota?”

“It’s not that far from Mom, or me, and it’s the northern part of Minnesota, so I could drive to see you. I could stay a week or so anyway. Jen, you love Rachel,” I said, almost panicked.

“I do, it’s just far. You and mom are the only family I have.” She lowered her eyes.

“But now you’re going to have Rachel.” I touched her shoulder. “She’s been our acting sister for as long as I can remember. We can Skype, whenever you want, and FaceTime.”

“I get it.” She looked up. “I just don’t want to think about it, Forest. You’re all I’ve ever known.”

“I promise you,” I said, pulling her close, “when I get everything figured out, my career and house, you can come to live with me. We’ll have a dog, and you’ll have your own bedroom and no one to boss you around. It’ll just be you and me. How does that sound?”

“I-I think I’d like that.” Jen looked up at me and gave me her best smile, the lonely kind of smile I saw my mother give me in this same spot all those years ago. ) -By. Armando H.

Through my love of writing, I want readers/everyone to know that we have the ability to change and create something new for ourselves. That we don't have to stay stuck.

I want readers, my-readers to recognize cycles of destruction, self-harm. To look at a situation with understanding instead of judgment. And to express themselves any way they can, through creating like I have, with my photography, my piano songs, my poetry and my books.