Wednesday, February 13, 2008

sleep with me and ill make you pancakes...

Where does this come from? This love? This fatal attraction? Is it because it is constantly moving, changing, and expressing its internal resistance? Is it because you can never have her? The object of desire, Los Angeles? Is that why LA is a woman, because as soon as you start to adore her she runs away and freaks out to change your perception of her? So let's start this sonnet of "where do I love thee", Ladie A.

The other spaces, the heterotopias, the space and time, the travel, the traffic, that which connects you and transcends laws and attached to the educated names.

-on and off ramps
-on bikes
-legend roads (sunset/mullholland/broadway), the shoe strings of the city


-with the sunrise
-from 3-6 am when everything is quiet enought to feel like the desert in the heart of the city
-"dead" to the shallow and vibrant to perceptive
-when I am no where.

When/Where do I hate the city:
Excess. This is the city of waste. There is abnormal amounts of excess in total spectrum. From the celebrity to the Chinatown streets.
Excess police brutality, excess paparazzi, excess dieting...

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