#antonio guzman

[blondebrainpowered]

Cat Behind the Window

Artist: Antonio Guzmán Capel (b. 1960-)

[whereslynx]

Antonio “Sad Eyes” Guzman getting jealous..

a/n: as per request, here’s a sad eye version. :) spooky version <—

pov: jamal and ruby flirts with you, not knowing sad eye was around.

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The low buzz of tattoo guns filled the small, dimly lit parlor as you sat on a worn leather couch, scrolling through your phone while Sad Eyes leaned over the counter, talking to his boy, the artist. The place smelled faintly of antiseptic and ink, and the walls were covered in framed tattoo designs—some intricate, others simple, but all bold.

Sad Eyes was getting a new piece done today, nothing too crazy, just something he’d been thinking about for a while. You were just here for the moral support, but honestly, you didn’t mind. You liked the quiet, gritty atmosphere of the shop.

The door swung open, and you looked up to see Jamal and Ruby walking in, talking animatedly about something along the lines of ‘Rollerworld money’ and ‘Why would a clue be in a tattoo parlor?’ until they spotted you. Their chatter died down immediately, and their eyes widened in sync. You didn’t know Ruby and Jamal too well, but you did know them through Cesar and they were most certainly not old enough to get a tattoo.

“Oh, hey,” Ruby stammered, giving you a wide grin as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Jamal’s mouth had already opened, ready to fire off some kind of compliment. “Damn, you looking even better than the last time I saw you,” he said with a playful smirk, strutting over like he was some kind of smooth operator.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “You two know where you are, right?” you teased, gesturing to the very serious, very inked-up people in the shop. “What’re you doing here?”

Ruby puffed his chest out a little, trying to act cool. “Just…you know, checking the place out. Cesar said this was the best spot in Freeridge. Jamal nodded enthusiastically, still staring at you. “Yeah, but like, we were hoping you’d give us a tour or something. Y’know, personal touch.”

You laughed outright this time, unable to help yourself. “Come back when you’re allowed to get a tattoo without your mamá’s permission,” you teased, your tone light but laced with just enough sarcasm to make them shift uncomfortably.

Jamal tried to recover, puffing out his chest and flashing a grin that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I don’t need permission, I’m practically grown,” he shot back, but the crack in his voice gave him away. Ruby, on the other hand, was already rubbing the back of his neck, clearly regretting their little stunt as he shuffled his feet, avoiding your gaze.

“You sure about that?” you quipped, giving him a knowing smirk. “Pretty sure last time I saw you, your mom was still packing your lunch.”

Jamal’s confidence wavered as his bravado slipped, and Ruby gave him a nudge as if to say, Abort mission. The faint buzzing of the tattoo machine hummed in the background, adding to the awkward silence as they both glanced around, clearly realizing they were out of their league here.

Before you could respond, the tattoo artist’s voice cut through the buzzing of the machines. “Y’all sure you wanna get at Sad Eyes’ girl like that?” His tone was casual, but there was an unmistakable edge of warning in it. The artist didn’t even bother looking directly at the boys—his eyes were focused on the mirror hanging on the far wall, where Sad Eyes stood leaning against the counter, arms crossed, eyebrow cocked in amusement.

Sad Eyes wasn’t even angry—he didn’t need to be. The casual tilt of his head and the way his lips quirked up ever so slightly in amusement were enough to make most people rethink their actions. Despite the lack of any visible aggression, his presence carried weight, a quiet authority that spoke louder than words.

The boys, however, had yet to notice him. They were still standing there, oblivious to the fact that they were digging their own graves. Jamal had his mouth half-open, likely ready to fire off another awkward attempt at flirting, while Ruby was still shifting nervously on his feet, his false bravado starting to crumble. They hadn’t yet realized the attention of the whole room had shifted toward them—and to Sad Eyes, waiting behind them like a silent storm.

Ruby cleared his throat, on his road to recovery from his big ego crash, “You know, I could take care of you—“

“Yeah?” a low voice cut in, smooth but laced with subtle authority. Jamal’s face froze mid-flirt, his cocky grin evaporating as Sad Eyes strolled over from the corner, tilting his head just enough to seem intrigued but with that unmistakable edge that made anyone think twice. His steps were slow, calculated, like he wasn’t in any hurry—because he didn’t need to be. The room had already gone quiet, the faint buzz of tattoo machines the only background noise.

Sad Eyes stood tall as he closed the distance, eyes glancing down at Jamal and Ruby with a quiet amusement. “You sure about that?” he asked, his voice low and easy, almost teasing, but heavy enough to make both boys stiffen.

The tattoo artist leaned back in his chair, arms folded, a grin tugging at his lips as if the whole thing was the best entertainment he’d had all day. “This is gonna be good,” he muttered under his breath, shooting you a knowing glance.

Ruby’s earlier confidence dissolved in an instant, his shoulders shrinking as he held his hands up like he was surrendering to the cops. “No, no, no, man, we—we’re just messing around,” he stammered, his voice a little higher than usual, like he was hoping Sad Eyes wasn’t about to knock him out.

Sad Eyes chuckled, the sound deep and nonchalant, as he stepped even closer, his shadow falling over the boys. He wasn’t in their face, but the proximity was enough to send the message. “Uh-huh. Thought so,” he said, his calm tone making it clear that the joke was over. He gave Jamal a pointed look, waiting for him to fold, which he did almost immediately.

Jamal, in all his awkward panic, grabbed Ruby by the collar, practically dragging him toward the door. “Nah, man, we’re just leaving, don’t even worry,” Ruby sputtered, his feet barely catching up with the speed of his retreat as they scrambled out of the shop, heads low.

Sad Eyes watched them go, shaking his head with a smirk before turning back to you. His expression softened instantly as he sat down next to you, his whole demeanor relaxing as if none of what just happened had phased him in the slightest. “I swear, they don’t know what they’re doing,” he said, his voice dropping back to that familiar warmth as he reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You grinned, nudging his shoulder with yours, the corner of your mouth tugging up in amusement. “You know they’re harmless,” you teased, rolling your eyes at the memory of the boys’ awkward flirting. “Just some kids with big egos.”

Sad Eyes leaned back on the worn couch, his arm draping casually over your shoulder as he let out a soft chuckle. His fingers traced light circles on your arm, and you felt the easy warmth of his presence settle around you. The tattoo artist called him over with a nod, signaling that it was time to get back to work.

“Still, can’t blame ‘em for trying,” Sad Eyes murmured, brushing his thumb softly along your jaw before he stood, leaving a brief, lingering warmth in its place. He gave you a lazy, confident smile, the kind that always made your heart skip a beat. “But they’ll learn.”

You laughed softly, watching as he sauntered back to the tattoo chair, his steps slow, unhurried, that familiar swagger in every move he made. There was no doubt in your mind—he had the whole situation under control, and it was clear he didn’t mind making sure everyone else knew it too.

As you settled back into the couch, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of warmth wash over you, knowing that no matter how chill he seemed, Sad Eyes always had your back in his own quiet, protective way. And that, more than anything, made you feel safe and loved in his world.

[vitapictor]

* This fantastic painting has been flagged by tumblr, after 2 months and after receiving several “likes”. If anyone interested for the uncensored version please PM - vitapictor

Capel was born on January 19, 1960 in Tetouan. Since 1961 he lives in the city of Palencia, Spain. Self-taught artist. Antonio Guzmá Capel as a child demonstrated his innate qualities for drawing and painting.

He made his first exhibition when he was only eleven years old. From then on, every year he participated in a new exhibition. At the age of fourteen he exhibited his work in Switzerland, where he was considered by local critics as a genius of painting, since he was not known until that moment, an artist with the ability to carry out works like his at such an early age.

Source:https://www.fineartphotographyvideoart.com/2010/12/antonio-guzman-capel-spain.html

http://aboutofart.blogspot.com/2014/09/antonio-guzman-capel.html

[whereslynx]

Dating Antonio “Sad Eyes” Guzman would be like..

pov: (sadeyes) golden retriever x black cat (you) trope !!

a/n: thank you for the request! :) sad eyes was actually one of my favourite characters — he just seemed so humble. p.s, in this oneshot, i’m kinda insinuating that you grew up with Spooky and Cesar, but it’s up to you if you choose to imagine yourself biologically related to them.

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In the midst of the Santos and their chaos of retaliation, there was Sad Eyes.

He was always the one to stand middle ground, but you lost count on how many altercations he deescalated between the Santos. His undying loyalty to the Santos allowed him to be the calm in the storm and the voice of reason in a world of wrath. He was dedicated to his compas, and carried his duties to back them up with intent.

But there was something else— No, someone else, that taught him to carry himself the way that he does.

You.

Before youse started dating, you had caught his eye long before you even formed an opinion on him as an individual.

But this man didn’t have to know you to fall in love with you.

He observed the way you weren’t afraid to speak your opinion in a room where it wasn’t favoured, and the way you weren’t afraid to stand alone and carry yourself through life.

It drove his urge to take care of you and lift you off your feet insane. So, when he finally asked you out and got accepted, he swore an oath to himself to give you the world.

But, having a boyfriend like Sad Eyes wasn’t always easy.

Growing up under the wings of Spooky, you learnt quickly and adapted easily to the cruelty that the world burdened you with whilst you thrived in independence. Spooky had taught you to not depend on anyone, ensuring that if he wasn’t there to aid you, then you’d be strong enough to be on your own.

It was funny, really; You had Spooky’s attitude and Cesar’s heart and confidence. Anyone from a mile away could spot the Diaz effect on you.

Many would think that your fiery and outspoken demeanour would rival Sad Eyes’ laid-back and calm one, but the way that man followed you around like a lost puppy was baffling. He shadowed your every move, making sure you had everything you wanted and needed.

“Are you sure you got it? I can carry it for you, guapa.” He’d say, following closely behind you with a big grin whilst you carried shopping bags into the Diaz household. “Ay, Dios, Antonio, I told you I got it!” You would exclaim with a sigh, waving him away as you shuffled into the house with your bags.

Moments like these would be followed by fellow Santos chuckling and shaking their heads, witnessing how attentive Sad Eyes was to your needs despite your insistence to stay true to your independence.

“Just let the chica do shit on her own, Sad Eye.” Joker would laugh, “She doesn’t need you to be her Superman.”

But Sad Eye would only shrug his comments off, “No, compa.” he’d shake his head, “She just isn’t used to it.” Sad Eye insisted, wandering off to plot on how he’s going to make you let him help you.

But on those days where life was getting a bit too heavy on your shoulders, and everything just seemed to turn against you no matter the reason, you found yourself leaning onto Sad Eye more than ever.

It’d be a rare occurrence that Sad Eye treasured each and every time.

He would be gentle, and he’d listen to every word you’d tell him. Whether it’d be things you needed to get off your chest, or simply just the things you’d ask of him.

“You’re too good for me,” you mumbled with your head laid on his chest. “No, mi vida. You’re just too hard on yourself.” Sad Eye would lowly chuckle, running his thumb across your skin. You only scoffed with a small smile, “Don’t bullshit me, tonto. I hardly do anything to please you. And yet, you give me so much.”

Sad Eye wrapped his arms around you with a childish grin,

“When will you understand that what I give you is a reflection of my love for you, and not an act to enforce debt onto you.”

[whereslynx]

maybe one of sad eyes. reader and him meet at a party, they talk and smoke etc get to know each other

a/n: thank you for requesting! i love this idea, i hope i did it justice!! p.s, i love writing requests so don’t be afraid to send some in. :)

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The night was still young, and those who were at the Santos’ party made sure to not take it for granted. Under the soft glow of the moon, the party thrived, brimming with people who lived in the moment. There was a palpable sense that each moment of it was treasure, and the energy of the crowd reflected that.

Whilst the party pulsed with energy, drunken laughter and conversation rising above the blasting music, you stood against the wall in the backyard where everyone was dancing, nodding your head to the beat with a Corona in hand as you gazed into the crowd. Although you stood alone, you originally came to the party with your homegirl, Angelica, but once she got her hands on Mario, they were all up on each other. You didn’t mind though, you’d rather chill by yourself rather than see them get all sloppy.

Before another thought passed your mind, a voice pulled you out of it. “Dang, looking a bit lonely there, ma.” A man said over the music. You looked up at him, raising a brow in curiosity. He was tall, slim, cute, and was dressed in all black. ‘A Santo.’ You noted in your head. You’ve never talked to him before, but you’ve often seen him cruising with his homies around the streets.

“And you are?” You asked with a tilted head, earning an almost satisfied smile from him when you didn’t shy away. “They call me Sad Eye.” He said, raising his Modelo as if to cheers to a new connection. You laughed, “Alright, Sad Eye.” You raised your beer to meet his, a gentle clink came from the two bottles. His face seemed to light up at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He’d taken a liking to the way his name sounded natural to your tongue, leaving him to wonder if hearing you say his name would become a daily occurrence.

Sad Eye took a sip of his beer, his gaze studying you as if you were a book glued shut. Although your surroundings were filled with loud music, chatter, and the occasional beer bottle breaking, the silence between youse spoke volumes beyond that.

“You smoke?” He asked, his husky voice breaking the silence. “Shit, yeah. How’d you know?” You giggled, a slight tinge of interest glinting in your eyes. “Nah, just the way you’re at a Santos’ party and you’re still babysitting a bottle.” He teased, pointing to the untouched Corona in your hand. You swore you almost choked on air at his comment, rubbing the nape of your neck in slight embarrassment as a sheepish smile plastered itself onto your face. Sad Eyes lowly chuckled, “Shiiit, it’s cool, mami. I prefer smoking over drinking too.” he waved his hand in dismissal to his teasing, offering you a friendly smile. You couldn’t tell if it was because you’d been seeing everyone grind up on their vatos at the party, or if his smile really did stir something in the pit of your stomach. Damn these Santos and butterflies.

“I wanted to put this blunt to use anyways, just didn’t want to leave the party while it was still alive, you know?” He said, taking the blunt from behind his ear, “But, now that I have you, maybe you could keep my party alive. ¿Arre?” Sad Eye smugly smirked, anticipating your answer. An interested gaze coated your eyes. You had to admit it, he was goddamn smooth with his words and the offer seemed enticing— almost too good to pass up. Your gaze flickered to Angelica from afar who was making out with Mario, seemingly keeping herself busy enough for you to sneak away for a sesh.

“Alright, bet.” Striking him with a confident smile, “Fuck the party, let’s ditch.” You laughed, playfully snatching the blunt and moving past the crowd and through the house to the front yard, Sad Eye followed close behind you with a stupidly jolly grin. “Atta’ girl.” He cooed. Spooky and Joker couldn’t blame him for that smitten expression on his face as they watched youse pass by them, who wouldn’t want to smoke with a pretty girl like you?

You and Sad Eye found a spot on the curb in front of the house. The music and drunken howls was still slightly loud, but drowned out by the night’s melody filled with dogs barking in the distance and cicadas singing in the bushes.

With only the moonlight and street lights illuminating up the street for youse, you lit the blunt, taking a pull from it before passing it onto Sad Eye who sat next to you. “So,” you exhaled the smoke, “how come they call you Sad Eye? Is it cause you always be looking sad and shit?” You assumed with a little intent to tease. Sad Eye only chuckled, taking his own puff, “Hell nah. Shit, even I don’t know.” he mumbled to you, “Probably cause when I got jumped in, I was high as shit. Homies probably thought I was going through it, eyes low and everything.” Sad Eye laughed, the blunt in his hand.

“What about you? How come your vato be letting yo’ pretty ass go to a party alone, hm?” He pondered aloud, turning his head to you as he took another pull before handing it back to you. You stared back at him with furrowed brows, slightly flustered by his comment. The music from the backyard didn’t seem so loud anymore.

“What makes you think I got a man?” you snickered, “Ion’ got time for that.” you mumbled, bringing the blunt to your lips. Sad Eye’s narrowed gaze flickered to yours, both of youse feeling the high sink in. “For real?” He asked, “You don’t got time for a man, huh.” he smirked, his gaze wandering to the moon. You laughed, lightly hitting his shoulder, “What’s with the tone? I’m serious! I don’t got time to waste on a little boy.” You exclaimed with a grin. Sad Eye laughed with you, “So, even when a real man comes to you, you ain’t giving him a chance?” he softly nudged you with his shoulder, leaving you to think of your answer. You knew where he was getting at, but you just didn’t know if he was up for it.

“Shit, if a real man wants to come and show me what’s up. I’m gon’ let him.” You answered, your red-tinted eyes looking into his.

A silence filled with undeniable tension and anticipation filled the air, the cold air of the night seemingly had gotten hotter in the midst of the silence. Sad Eye nodded, not afraid to maintain the eye contact, “Consider tonight the start of a real man showing you what’s up.” he promised, his smoky voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

If the butterflies in your stomach from fifteen minutes ago were bothering you before, it was sure as hell bothering you now.

“I’m looking forward to it.” You challenged, handing him the blunt with a smug smirk.

[nuestrospresidentes-blog]

4 presidentes del PRD

El 21 de enero se cumplieron 73 años de la fundación del Partido Revolucionario Dominicano, el 21 de enero de 1939, en La Habana, Cuba. Luego del ajusticiamiento de Trujillo, el PRD llega a la República Dominicana el 5 de julio de 1961. Desde entonces, el PRD ha estado presente en todas las etapas decisivas de la democracia dominicana, tanto desde el gobierno como en la oposición. Cuatro líderes del PRD han sido electos como presidentes constitucionales de la República: Juan Bosch (1962-1963), Antonio Guzmán (1978-1982), Salvador Jorge Blanco (1982-1986) e Hipólito Mejía (2000-2004). Actualmente, el PRD es la principal fuerza política en la República Dominicana.

[brooklife-blog]

When: April 23, 2011

Where: Brooklyn, NY

the Whut: Dutch-Panamanian artist Antonio Guzman and The State of L3. Recently at the Rush Arts Gallery Antonio Guzman presented an artist talk about the Pan African Contemporary Arts & Film Collective as he discussed tracing his roots and connecting artists through out the Diaspora and created his own State. The State of L3 where he has worked with local artists and had exhibitions in Dakar, Senegal; Amsterdam, Netherlands; Antwerp, Belgium; Paris, France; and Rio de Jeneiro, Brazil. I interviewed him shortly after as we moved toward a Coon Bidness event. He saw Melvin Van Peebles and then brother Peebles spoke Dutch to him.

yeah...the diaspora of art!

Q & A coming soon...