"I loved the way she said 'LA'; I love the way everybody says 'LA' on the Coast; it's their one and only golden town when all is said and done."Jack Kerouac, On the Road (69)
What is it about a change of city that changes the way we see things? Even the most mundane street signs and cement benches are fresh again. Maybe I'm just easily intoxicated by the feeling of new. But, I think it's more than that. The color of the light changes in every city; a tint that resets the mood.
I swear that the light is indigo in San Diego. I see it most at twilight.
The heat off the streets in Buenos Aires is just the slightest bit teal.
Portland's misty mornings are the softest green-gray.
I could be romanticizing the smoggy hazy of Los Angeles; but the light in this city is golden. Not the cheap sparkling gold of the boulevard, but the goldenrod of scorched summer hills.
It rolled down into the open windows here at Union Station and warmed the sienna leather chairs.
It rolled down into the open windows here at Union Station and warmed the sienna leather chairs.
When I was snapping away, before my train left, an older woman asked me if I wanted my picture taken. I told her no thank you, but on second thought I reconsidered. It's unusual to have any pictures of myself from vacation because no one knows how to use a manual camera anymore.
She asked me where I was going, and I told her South. She told me she wasn't headed anywhere. She just likes to watch people in the station over lunch.
So photo-credit, and this song of searching, go out to her.
(photos) Los Angeles Union Station. With a pentaxk1000, on film. More on my flickr.
Ah you're right! San Diego = indigo! And I'm obsessed with this woman... You may have just triggered my next short story idea :)
ReplyDeleteP.S. Video chat date this week? Yesyesyes!
P.P.S. We're getting ever-closer to summer. Translation: Ever-closer to SEEING EACH OTHER! :) :) :)
Laura Marie you were meant to meet her - she was eating a PB and J!
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