Out of all of the music I have written, Jacarandas en el Suelo probably has the cheesiest origin. The title came from my sister who used to pick me up with my mother from my old middle school back in Mexico. For those of you who might not know, the Jacaranda is a gorgeous tree with indigo-colored flowers that grows in central South America and many other places. The front entrance of my school was separated from the street by a large open-air basketball course and a small garden where all of these beautiful trees would grow and, in the spring, they would bloom and paint the whole place with a variety of blue and purple colors. At some point during spring, the abundance of Jacaranda trees would resemble purple clouds, straight out of a dream, and the mere action of walking from the school’s entrance to my mother’s car was ridiculously beautiful.

 

This little stroll became even more unbearably pretty because these flowers are constantly falling to the ground, so it seems like there is purple cotton candy raining from the sky. On a particular day close to my graduation from middle school, my sister Natalia said, “oh Horis, I am going to miss seeing you walk this path filled with Jacarandas on the ground” of course, at the time I didn’t say anything, but that phrase has stuck with for years because it must have been one of the first times that I became conscious about the fact that time passes and that flowers fall to the ground.