Massage & The Power of Obsidian

Mo Ortega
Mo Ortega
Apr 17, 2019 · 3 min read

At the top of the Temple of the Sun, the warmth of the day bakes my shoulders while my heart beats so fast it makes me thirsty for the water I never carry enough of. I try to stand close to the ledge hoping for a cool breeze while looking in awe onto the avenue which begins with the temple of the moon. I love knowing that all I have to do is walk to the end of the avenue of the dead, onto a dusty road and I can greet my obsidian carvers.

The casita of obsidian carvers sits concealed in the sleepy town of Teotihuacán, which mothers Obsidian quarries that are older than the…