Ever since I grew up on Langford Street, I’ve always been so curious about people and the little details that make up who they are.

Maybe its their glasses, a shirt, a hairstyle, a dress – maybe it’s a watch or shoes. Their accent, their fragrance, their haircut, their tats, their lunch, their dog, their drink, their smile, where they are working – these little things capture me, and compel me to speak with everyone and anyone. When I’m pumping gas, drinking a cup of coffee, walking my dog through the park – everywhere I go, I see the light in people and want to share in it. I know you – like many others – are thinking, okay that’s crazy.

You know, everyone has a unique story, one about faith, one about love, one about pain – to me it doesn’t matter where I go or who it is , I just want to hear their story. The world is so beautiful, flowing with vibrant, varied colors, that we can all get lost in if we just take the time to look around and embrace our surroundings. This collection of abstract paintings was brought to life with passion, anguish, and desolation. Each painting has a name and a story.

Thank you to my kids, Lauren, Danny, Lyric, Noah, Kayla, and Melody, who – no matter how grown and professional they get – still have to hear my crazy stories. Thank you to those who let my curiosity open a doorway to the colorful tales of your lives.

Rikko Ollervidez

(just some kid from the southside, riding his bike)

Become adjusted to new conditions. Everything I had planned will no longer be the same

The street I grew up on
Where I sat in a tree in my front yard dreaming of being rich
Where I got my first kiss
Where I got my first black eye
Thank you Vickie Rios for both
Where I learned how to ride a bike, learned to play music, write unknown lyrics. Where I played football and baseball in the street and where I played my record player deep into the night singing songs from the 50s of my parent’s youth . Where I cut my grass and when I was done cut my neighbor Mrs.Dees yard, remembering the delicious smells of rice, the beans and flour tortillas my mom would make, remembering always winning the barefoot on the hot street contest, where I worried about nothing. Where I learned how to love, how to be a a man, a father, a friend
and to appreciate everything, thank you 154 LangFord.

You can say stuck or caught, but it was a certain picture that brought me back to a place where I remembered. I was there with you suspended in time. A Smiled, a Laugh, the Scent, the Place, for a quick second it was just ...a moment.