I took city streets to Los Feliz from Santa Monica last night. It was dark, the neon, traffic and shop lights gave personality to LA's very different neighborhoods. Santa Monica, Westwood, Beverly Hills (Thriller again playing through the good Beverly). I stopped in Hollywood to wash the car. The streets were not wet, but they reminded me of rain slicked streets. I arrived in Los Feliz village a bit earlier than I needed to, so I decided to explore the area. Check out the houses, get the vibe of the neighborhood. The first time I drove on Vermont Street I loved the area. I was meeting my friend Suzanna for dinner before the Pixies at the Greek Theater. I've never seen Vermont street during the daytime. At night, it welcomes me. It reminds me of so many places and yet none at all. I turned off the main road and started taking the dog legs. You know, dog legs, the streets that stop at a three way and then continue straight again after you take a quick jog to the left. I'm getting the feeling of this neighborhood more and more. It's Oakland in my mind. Oakland with lots of palm trees. It's a strange feeling. The comfort I have in this part of the city, because I am familiar with it's vibe from another city. It's definitely the Oakland I know at night.
I'm driving around. I end up in the Hills again. It's so much like the northern towns I lived in. I come onto a wide thoroughfare. It's so much like other dark cities I know. I forget I am in LA. I forget where I am going and why I am in this part of town. I am fascinated with this feeling. With this driving around, complete satisfaction and comfort and delight. Delight in exploring, in finding the newness in this city. The houses, apartment complexes, the streets, some narrow, some wide. The hills steep enough I remember to curb my wheels. I know this is not the cities I have known. I know it is a different city. I love it nonetheless. Its cloak is so close to what I know. I enjoy immensely this feeling of comfort and discovery as I drive around aimlessly, feeling the city, kissing it's city streets in a long meandering rubber embrace.
I grow tired of this feeling. It's worn off and time has ticked away. I have successfully gotten myself lost. I don't know how to get there from here. I attempt some minor maneuvers, but, I've fully discombobulated my brain and I can't remember which streets are familiar to me because they are the streets of this city or another. I'm stopped at Hollywood and Sunset (Mission and Valencia) there's no Odeon, but it's the same. I'm a mere 5 minutes away. The familiar feeling of Vermont Street. You take the exit from 101 and in a couple short miles you'll arrive at Farley's or maybe Jack's 62. It depends on which city you exit 101 from. Is it Potrero Hill or Los Feliz? The neighborhoods are distinctly different.
Writing about this experience now, makes me ponder about my emotions towards people in my life. New people in my life. Men. It's so easy for me to do certain roles very very well. I've had years to practice. And I know there are certain flavors of people that I like very very much. So like the city streets of los feliz, my feelings towards men. Familiar flavors, different people. Unknowns all around. And in my mind both; Enjoyment of the comfortable things and knowing there is the unknown.
My mind is calculating. Comparing myself to myself. Rubbing the rocks together. Chipping the stones. Polishing the diamonds.
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