Evanx Aguiluz

Evanx Aguiluz (he/him) is a New Jersey–born, Massachusetts-based mixed-media artist creating work in a self-defined style he calls Post-Traumatic Pop Art, where trauma, nostalgia, spirituality, recovery, and humor intersect with the language of pop culture. Through painting, assemblage, digital collage, and salvaged childhood objects, he maps the ways the sacred hides inside the mundane—and how memory, wit, and a touch of absurdity can become a pathway toward healing.

Message of hope: Keep going.

Contact

Email: Wilsonplus.ps4@gmail.com

YouTube: @WilsonPlus2k

Substance Use Help Here/SAMHSA

Garden State of Mind:

A Love Elegy

By Evanx Aguiluz

Paterson and Jersey City.
Bergenfield and Englewood.
I can’t go back to the old Union City.
I’ll never shoot
Seaside sand into me
Or sip from the Hudson River
Ever again.

Remember when Hoboken was for lovers?
When our mothers were our mothers,
Our brothers were our brothers,
And our fathers shared the same name?

I almost died where I was born.
I almost killed where I was born.
Please
Don’t go to Paterson anymore.

We worked so hard
To build a nest in West New York.
I thought things would get better
When you got that job in Rutherford.

Remember New Year’s in Secaucus?
We had cheeseburgers in paradise.
We almost died in Jersey City.
It was insane
On Romaine.

You’d put a needle in my neck
Filled with
Blood,
Sweat,
Tears,
Ashes,
And dust.

That mud would fill the cracks,
Temper my lust,
And mend my broken heart.
It glittered like amethyst.
I could live with what I did
To the rib I gave you.

And then you were next
To forget,
The bites you took
From the fruit
Of my family tree.

We killed each other
Where we were born.

I hope you’re okay in Bergenfield.
Remember Englewood?
Our New Jerusalem.
Like Eden even
A short kingdom,
A dream.
Like Norwood Castle
By the mouth of the Wilson Stream.

Maybe our dogs
Kept the snake away
For a little while?

We should’ve had one of those kids.
They would’ve been born there
Like you,
And like my nephew,
Who I wish you knew.

A little saint
I pray
Won’t suffer our same sins.

But I know one thing:
I miss the fireworks on Blvd. East,
Where the NYC skyline
And New Jersey nighttime meet

And the old 22nd Street,
Where I’d walk out of my building
Blinded by Ray’s,
Melted by summer heat.

Nowadays,
There’s a tree there that reminds me
Even party people
Can find rest and peace.

Will you ever see?
Will you ever know?

Life isn’t about the harvest you reap
But the seeds you sow

It’s pure
Not gold or silver
God gave me the cure
For the Hudson River liver.

Step into a Garden State of mind:

Drink rain.
Chew sunshine.
Lay in a bed of flowers.
And slowly blossom.