heathervescent

Living in the City

I'm driving my city streets. Visiting old neighborhoods. The Past. The Future. A building, branching, exploring the new, next to the known. It's great to be visiting these places. The neighborhoods change while staying the same. I'm different and the same too. 

I've missed living in my city.

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Franklin to Hyperion to Atwater. Shakespeare Bridge. The secret backroads have turned into bicycle share streets. I put my top down, breathe the air and play loud music. The bridges, the hills. I've missed this commute. I've missed the east side - despite it's hipster gentrification. I remember the dreams I had over here. I remember living in the Future with Gloria. (The Future was a house on Future street.) A Future in the past. 

A party a few weeks ago took me back to the Future neighborhood. It was 3 blocks away. I almost wanted to visit it, walk up the hill to three stumps, the old dog walk route. But I've got a new future unfurling each present moment these days.

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From one meeting to another I navigate the web of freeways. The 134 to the 2 to the 5 to the 10. Speeding further east. I weave between cars and take exit only off ramps that lead to no exit; but to another freeway. Each road leading to another, and another, and eventually the roads lead home.

Back in the glitter and grit of Hollywood, I drive Sunset Blvd. My life is a dream. A reality of my creation - sustained. Well-worn grooves: Fountain, La Cienga, Sunset, Santa Monica, La Brea, Melrose, Highland. My tires on these roads, my hand on the stick shift, breathing the air, the power in this place. Power I refine and return in abundant multi-fold. 

Building to Burn

Earlier today I was telling my friend Liz about building art for Burning Man. I described how the creation process feels different when you build something you know you will destroy. As we talked, I told her the story of building (and burning) my unicorns. I remembered how I felt building them. I sucked at building them. It was a lot of work and I had to try multiple times. I persevered. Only in the end to strap explosives and fireworks to the wood frames, douse in gasoline and give to the fire. 

I stopped a beat while telling her the story. This concept, building something up to burn it down, came down on my head like a frying pan epiphany. Of course! 

I was reminded of the paradox of peeling the onion when Shane Carruth did his director Q&A for Upstream Color. He asked, "When you peel back the layers of the onion, what do you have left?"

That's the problem with the onion. The obvious thought is that you are peeling each layer of the onion to get to the core of the onion. And there's another layer below it, until there is no more onion left to peel.

The answer is a simple, yet profound shift of thinking. The layers are the onion.

It comes down to Perception

I find it hard to believe in an objective truth - although I'm sure there's one out there. I don't know that I (or anyone) has the ability to see the objectivity (even math, physics and science comes from a perspective). Because we see things from where we are standing. That's our perspective. 

Two people can experience/see the same thing, and yet take away different experiences - based on their perception of the situation/person. It's true that perception can be changed. Shifted. In an instant. Like a lightswitch (my recent favorite metaphor).

You don't change what you're seeing/observing - you change how you see it. And this in turn changes the world - what is there - what is possible. So it's really up to you and your perception. And it doesn't necessarily really matter what you are perceiving.