Los Angeles

Oh great calamity,
Ditch of iniquity and tears
How I abhor this place
Its sweet and bitter taste
Has left me wretched, retching on all fours
Los Angeles, I’m yours.

Having lived in LA for a decade before finally escaping to the civility and substance of New York eight years ago, I am always a bit melancholic when I visit the City of Angels. It is lovely and inviting and pleasant in so many ways, but leaves me feeling empty like I binged on a giant meal consisting of balloon animals filled with air and MSG. I was able to get some surfing in, which was fun and challenging. I checked out the Kubrick exhibit at LACMA, an amazing retrospective of his career in film. The Mapplethorpe show at LACMA was notable mainly for the impact his work still carries despite the cultural shifts we’ve seen in the last twenty-five years and the small size of the curated show. There is incredible graffiti in Los Angeles and I was pleased to see one of my favorites, Herakut, get a lot of wall real estate for a particularly moving piece. All in all, a great trip. But, now, on my way home, I must say, New York I’m yours…

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