Eighteen years ago I left my apartment, job and friends in New York City and moved to Los Angeles. I wondered if I would last a year in this new, bright city. I needed to find employment, a bed and a car. I told myself to give it a year, and if need be Manhattan would respond like a forgiving jilted lover and have me back. But I never returned. Within months I was working at a studio, making friends, and furnishing my new apartment. Although I can account for every minute and hour of my life in LA I'm still shocked that the time adds up to eighteen years. Sometimes I feel the walls of time closing in on me. I want to push them open as if they are elevator doors shutting before I've had time to step over the threshold. Ironically, the pace at which my life is passing is making me slow down. Perhaps it's just a result of the traffic, but I find myself doing less in the city and being home more. In fact, today was the perfect anniversary of my arrival. After an early morning spin, I went to the farmers market, made a big pot of squash, corn and swiss chard soup, read, shot photographs, and took a heavenly nap. Happy Anniversary Los Angeles. The picture was taken from a park in the Hollywood Hills.
Sounds like a blissful day.
ReplyDeleteTime is that ever changing moment - I sometimes feel is closing in on me too. Deep breaths, I try to remember there is still a wide open view.