When I think back to my time when I was riding the LA floatilla, I remember the feeling of being disappeared. Invisible and with out circumstance, without a tether. Spinning infinite headlong in space, ala 2001. I recognize that is what 18-21 feels like - alternately bouncing as if gravity is hardly enough force to hold you to this place, or being buckled inert to the earth forever. When I conjur "LA" under shut lids I think of the sides of houses and how they look in the terminal California light. I think of the LA Philharmonic mural off the 10 when your are coming from downtown, the matronly woman with the viola and the maroon dress and librarian hair, a perfect nerd giantess cast upon 5 floors of parking garage. I think of intersections of names of streets I forgot. Where El Pollo Loco meets Circus of Books and goes curvy. Where Hyperion dips. Where Scotland hits the top of the Silverlake hill. I think of all the newness, these post boom stucco'd complexes done up peach and shrouded in undeveloped natural landscaping of long wild grasses and desert shrub.
I think of the city on slow ebb, if moving at all. I think of Day of The Locust and a million rotting hopes scabbing over of those begging proximity to something great or a headshot on their dry cleaners wall.
I can barely stand it.
At lunch, The Cheif joined us. Last time I saw The Cheif, he says it was on a bus going down Santa Monica in 1995, I said I did not remember that but the last time we were all together, well, the house was filling with that nauseating burning Barbie hair smell of coke-smoke. The Cheif now is robust and to say he glows is too simple. He is like a prayer come to life, he is someone relishing grace. He was telling me that in his new job, where he deals with city bureacracy "All my years of drug dealing experience come in hand. All the hustle I used to have to pull some scam when I needed somebody to cash a check that I knew was bad, it really comes in handy when dealing with the City."Posted by Jessica at April 29, 2005 08:14 PM | TrackBack