September is waving us goodbye and I can't stop thinking of LA.
It was the middle of the Spring that it occurred to me. Once more, I wanted to extend my LA all the way to California, indulged by a longing-like feeling for the coming of the sunnier days.
And they came indeed as they are now leaving: Spring, followed by Summer. And the quest of my LA, ever present, just like the persisting temper weather.
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From the green hilltops to the beaches, through or even around the messy downtown, the sprawl of low-rise neighborhoods, disorderly patched up together around the historic center; earthquakes, wildfires and floods, my city was there for grabs and I wanted to stretch it even further; I was wondering how even that LA woman could ever find her way out.
But what do I really know about California? If knowing is being, well, nothing.
But spring always fights valiantly her way into summer and not in vain;
And it was not in vain indeed. That summer ,triumphantly rolled in, in completely new dimensions.
I may had evaded California dreaming but the skies were calling me and to my delight, they were calling me to exotic coasts and enchanting skylines.
But summer can be deceiving and so was this. Once back home one can set up in a quest of his LA and wind up in Hotel California. Yes, I tried to check out many times this summer, but only once did I leave...
So, did I finally make it out to to my LA? No, not really. My LA is wide and bright, in day and night.Seductive in innocence and lustful in love. It strays in adventure but knows where it's home. I got to become again a guest, warmly hosted maybe and courteously trusted, but not enough; I needed to reside. I wanted to roam not to trend. No I did not find my LA, my quest seemed in vain
Sobered once more, I was searching for my city. I tried to redeem. Tried. Was I, not giving enough in exchange? Was I, demanding too much? Does my LA exist? Oh the horror of facing the truth haunted me; what if my LA really doesn't exist? Was I, really afraid of gazing at the face in the mirror? Starstruck, mislead and deceived? Oh you indolent, idle August how canny can you become! For, all leads to one simple thing: What is really my LA?
My LA is a place I can call home.
Did that mean that I gave up? Not really. Old soldiers don't die. They slowly fade away fighting. Or go to hell and regroup. August went away and September arrived bearing a straightening tone. I may go on wandering in my city, looking always for my LA, either towards the coast or to the hill slopes up north, but (and not strikingly enough), for one moment, one single fleeting instance, I thought I was there. Alone with many, close to home and surrounded by my city, I saw LA.
The real LA.
It was the middle of the Spring that it occurred to me. Once more, I wanted to extend my LA all the way to California, indulged by a longing-like feeling for the coming of the sunnier days.
And they came indeed as they are now leaving: Spring, followed by Summer. And the quest of my LA, ever present, just like the persisting temper weather.
From the green hilltops to the beaches, through or even around the messy downtown, the sprawl of low-rise neighborhoods, disorderly patched up together around the historic center; earthquakes, wildfires and floods, my city was there for grabs and I wanted to stretch it even further; I was wondering how even that LA woman could ever find her way out.
But what do I really know about California? If knowing is being, well, nothing.
But spring always fights valiantly her way into summer and not in vain;
And it was not in vain indeed. That summer ,triumphantly rolled in, in completely new dimensions.
I may had evaded California dreaming but the skies were calling me and to my delight, they were calling me to exotic coasts and enchanting skylines.
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| St Georges quay in Beirut on a July night |
So, did I finally make it out to to my LA? No, not really. My LA is wide and bright, in day and night.Seductive in innocence and lustful in love. It strays in adventure but knows where it's home. I got to become again a guest, warmly hosted maybe and courteously trusted, but not enough; I needed to reside. I wanted to roam not to trend. No I did not find my LA, my quest seemed in vain
Sobered once more, I was searching for my city. I tried to redeem. Tried. Was I, not giving enough in exchange? Was I, demanding too much? Does my LA exist? Oh the horror of facing the truth haunted me; what if my LA really doesn't exist? Was I, really afraid of gazing at the face in the mirror? Starstruck, mislead and deceived? Oh you indolent, idle August how canny can you become! For, all leads to one simple thing: What is really my LA?
My LA is a place I can call home.
Did that mean that I gave up? Not really. Old soldiers don't die. They slowly fade away fighting. Or go to hell and regroup. August went away and September arrived bearing a straightening tone. I may go on wandering in my city, looking always for my LA, either towards the coast or to the hill slopes up north, but (and not strikingly enough), for one moment, one single fleeting instance, I thought I was there. Alone with many, close to home and surrounded by my city, I saw LA.
The real LA.
