I Found My Motor City™

The day was crystal clear, almost blinding in the clarity of the landscape. Smog often clouds the view, making the mountains appear etched in the background like a matte graphic, an illustration of the moment. But on this day, the mountains bulged into the view, giving me a fresh perspective on the somewhat industrial area I was passing through . I was on a mission to renew my passport at the Hollywood Way, Burbank California USPS. The Bob Hope Airport (where you still walk onto the tarmac and out to the stairs rolled up to the aircraft, sixties style) is practically across the street.  This is the hub of the birth of aerospace and aviation.  I rather liked the idea of making the passport pilgrimage, with anticipation of a transatlantic flight, in the shadow of aviation pioneers like Howard Hughes, who got his start right in this very neighborhood. There's a bronze statue of Amelia Earhart in a nearby park. Earhart became the most famous female pilot of all time. I bet people

Buzzing by Hollywood on the 101, the chiseled digits of new construction, billboards on buildings, cranes reaching for the stars in the glow of the neo neon blazing atop hotels that are hip hot again...my lego transformer. I roll on towards the next icon, venus hanging, winking. i'm singing along to the dancing dot, six speaker surround sound - it's my personal mix. I found my motor city.

Today the sky was clear but hazy...hardly any clouds, yet something was missing - the horizon... the mountains were completely disguised by a low layer of something...maybe smog, maybe marine layer... I couldn't help thinking about how painters flock to Paris or Amsterdam to paint. Something about the light... I can see how the light and the sky in Los Angeles inspires other kinds of artists - the clothing designers, textile designers and costume designers. Today's sky was a perfect ombre, light to dark, with the darkest "ring" being the low level layer preventing me from seeing the mountains. the part of the sky that was clear had thin cloud like matter spread across it like lace or an ombre tie dye pattern. I found my motor city.

The city was cloaked in a grey shroud, creating a blank canvas, a green screen - the perfect foil for the metal monsters and seraphin sculptures that masquerade as hotel marquees in Hollywood. Seducing us, wrapping us in an aura of an era gone by and come again. I found my Motor City.

The city shimmers in the distance, seducing me with hope, beckoning me down the yellow brick road. An optical phenomenon, vertical stacks - the Legoland of LA LA Land... a facade from which to broadcast my dreams. I found my motor city.