I discover a muralist by the name of David Alfaro Siqueiros, and I fall in love a little bit.
I have yet another encounter with my passionate communisto, Diego Rivera.
I take a picture of my shadow because I want some part of me to be imprinted on this country's ground.
I complain about the heat.
But then remember it could be much worse.
And also remember how this city is layered with history...literally.
And that makes me very happy.