*l.a.*

*Los Angeles*The City of Angels*The City of Assholes*Lalaland*Hell A*Southland*El Lay*El Pueblo*The Basin*City of Flowers and Sunshine*The Big Orange*Tinseltown*

WHAT I HAVE LEARNED IN MY 1/2 YEAR HERE:

• LA is full of amazing people.
• LA is full of crazy, I mean crrrazy people.
• The weather is unbelievable.
• The summer can be unbearable.
• Everyone is in "the industry".
• Most people who claim to be in "the industry" are full of shit.
• Apparently in NY, "Fuck you" means "Have a nice day"
• Apparently in LA, "Have a nice day" means "Fuck you".
• People are cheerful!
• People drive like blind, angry monkeys.
• The sun makes for fun!
• The smog makes for sinus infections.

But I'm happy here! And the creative energy is flowing! And I have plans and projects and ideas!

And I never expected this from LA.

But I was hoping...

So I'm staying.

For now.

Ooh LaLa

Tonight I'll board a bus that takes me to a train that takes me to the BART that takes me to San Francisco. Tomorrow night I fly back to Los Angeles.

With each visit home my heart beats faster upon arrival, the magic of San Francisco comes into sharper focus and I dream about moving back. And yet, there are days like today, when the sun is shining bright and the smog is light and not a cloud is in sight and I wonder, are you trying to woo me LaLa? My love life continues to be complicated. Two cities, multiple personalities and no idea about anything other than the beauty of life. Every moment is a gift.

The cafe is quiet, the possibilities are endless, the next few weeks will determine the next few years of my life. Go back to school? Go back to San Francisco? Settle for a bit in LA? Or none of the above!? Will this lunar new year bring good fortune? Love? Art? A puppy??? The shrinkage of some bills... ?

Elliott Smith croons to me:

Drink up, baby, stay up all night
The things you could do, you won't but you might
The potential you'll be that you'll never see
The promises you'll only make
Drink up with me now and forget all about
The pressure of days, do what I say
And I'll make you okay and drive them away
The images stuck in your head
People you've been before that you don't want around anymore
That push and shove and won't bend to your will
I'll keep them still
Drink up, baby, look at the stars
I'll kiss you again between the bars
Where I'm seeing you there with your hands in the air
Waiting to finally be caught
Drink up one more time and I'll make you mine
Keep you apart, deep in my heart
Separate from the rest, where I like you the best
And keep the things you forgot
The people you've been before that you don't want around anymore
That push and shove and won't bend to your will
I'll keep them still

Sometimes my brain not work right.

Making things make sense requires a type of effort and energy that I simply do not have at the moment and yet I’m compelled to type lovely little letters in ‘Times New Roman’ on a white screen glowing in my dark room under my down comforter in a ‘Word file’ titled “Document 1” with the sound of the fan and the meowing of a cat named ‘Go-Go’ and you may read on if you dare…

There is a chorus of some kind of chirping outside and I have no idea what from! Are there bugs here in Silverlake? A neighborhood dog seems to be aggravated at the sounds and is barking and the cars hum along on the 101.

I went to the beauty supply store and bought ingredients to mix my own hair color, I felt like a wonderfully mad scientist and the result is a very pleasing rich and coppery red. I also cut my own hair with some scissors and a hand mirror while leaning over my porch so as to let the bits drop over the edge. I’m pleased with this trim-and-tone and have received many compliments. If I can keep my hands away from a pair of clippers I think I’ll let it grow long again.

A guy came into the café this morning and chatted with me for about two hours. His theory is that everyone is meant to do something very specific and that when they realize what it is they will be amazing at it and it will energize them rather than drain them. He says you have to try lots of things to figure it out and that there are clues that can help you discover it. One, is noticing what things you do that people respond to positively, also, what things seem to serve others in a unique way and what things you are totally passionate about to the point where you could imagine doing them all the time. *He still seems to be trying to figure out his own thing, but I like his theory.

He also told me about how a lion kills a wildebeest in the most efficient manner so as not to die itself and that it requires "totally severity". He teaches self-defense and sells shampoo and might be doing an acting course at the Stella-Adler school. He’s huge and I’m pretty sure he could take out a wildebeest if need be.

I met a dog whose name is ‘Noodle’. He loves me because I gave him a piece of turkey. If only that worked on people. You would have to give me Tofurkey.

Reading about a book called “Connected” in the New York Times book review I learned that we really, really do take after the people in our lives and even the people in their lives in a very direct way. You have to read it to know what I mean because I don’t feel up to explaining it without quotes and I lent the article to a co-worker, but you really must read it and then tell me what you think. Especially fascinating in terms of online social networks. It struck me on a personal level in terms of 'cutting out' or 'letting go of' negative people in my life. Something I’ve never really made a practice of doing in the past. I tend to sort of love everyone for one reason or another but I’m learning that that isn’t exactly healthy or realistic and that I can’t just will people to be the best they can be, or whatever it is I want them to be (although I know on some level they are unique perfection and wholeness) there really are some meanies out there believe it or not! It sucks. Tangent. Apparently I’m sensitive. Mainly, I'm just realizing I'm not a victim in any way when it comes to the world around me, I don't have to take up with everyone who comes into my life if they're harming me in any way.

I watched “Jules and Jim” the Francoise Truffaut film, rented from the library, highly recommend it. Beautiful, complex, moving, philosophical, entertaining, tragic. They really don’t make movies like that these days.

Today I read about a women’s Shakespeare company and started to tear up with inspired emotion. I dork-out about stuff like that once in awhile.

The free clinic I went to today was another moment of true admiration and inspiration in my day. Women working in shitty buildings for low pay with poor un-insured patients in a non-glamorous, non-Grey’s-Anatomy-esque environment are my heroes today! The one who drew my blood had the lightest touch and smiled and chatted the whole time and the doctor who saw me felt like a cool aunt or a best friend’s mom and filled me in on some realistic pointers to a healthier lifestyle that I actually want to follow! She even told me I can drink the water here! (Everyone else is all obsessed with bottled) but I’m anti-bottled water anyway and I don’t notice any taste to our tap! I will be drinking this tap water joyfully and you can see if I die or not.

Speaking of which, I had this weird, gross thought about online graveyards, virtual headstones like little website memorials… Freaky. Don’t know where that one came from.

Do you think they’ll publish famous peoples’ Twitters in books when they die? I shudder.

In “Jules and Jim” I remember Jim saying something about a mentor telling him his job was to go out into the world and be curious. I’ve always wanted a mentor and I’ve always wished someone I could trust and respect would tell me what to do and I would love it if “being curious” was the job prescribed. Well, no such luck, it’s me, myself and I (and you) and if no mentor will have me then I will run wild like the crazy wildebeest I am! Besides, I’ve already appointed myself the job of curiosity and observation and I am my boss and I say, “good work, Shakti! You shall have a raise! It’s not in the form of money but, uh, well, it’s a raised glass of tap water! Carry on brave adventurer!”

Over and out.

Wait, one other thing. Just so you know the reason the lion has to attack so precisely is because the wildebeest could very easily kill the lion. It's a moment of life or death, total commitment and the attacker has to be completely on target. We're all capable of "going for the throat". Not in a violent or killing sense, I wonder what positive things I can be that precise and severe about, wasting time throwing punches in the air is starting to take it's toll. Wait, am I the lion now? Oh dear...

Take Heart. Give Love.

The temperature gets better every day. I’ve found a job. I’ve been upgraded from weeks of sleeping on the floor to a borrowed air mattress (as of yesterday)! Henry has a full tank of gas and got a much-needed bath and when I got in him to drive to the library today, Fleetwood Mac came on the radio! Things are really looking up! Soon I’ll have a real mattress on the floor, and who knows, maybe one day a bed frame too!

I’ve been working on some paintings that I don’t hate (yet) and I’ve never posted my artwork on here, I don’t think, but I’m going to today. Why not, I guess. I woke up thinking about how nice it was to sleep a few inches off the ground and then about this memory of a horse I made. I don’t want to spend every blog talking about me, myself and I, in fact, now that things are less dramatic around here I’ll probably be writing about the world around me more. But since I’m mostly still alone, I can’t help but hear the voice in my head and for some reason it wants to tell you this story:

I don’t really know how old I was, maybe around 9? 10? Not sure, but I had discovered horses and I was in love. We lived in the country so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility physically, however, financially it was a crazy dream to dream. I helped out at a stable in exchange for riding lessons and I fell in love with a horse named Roam. He was a beautiful rust red with a white blaze on his forehead and we understood each other. Out of my obsession grew the desire to possess him but since I couldn’t buy him I decided to make my own version. I just wanted to be with him! I dug around in my dad’s tool shed and found supplies and scraps and started building.

The most important thing to me was that I could actually sit on this model horse so it needed to be sturdy and structurally sound. The torso was fashioned from a big plastic bucket that I stuffed to prevent from bending and cracking. I nailed it onto four pieces of wood and added another one for the neck and head. Once this skeleton was constructed I covered the body in chicken wire and then molded paper mache over it. I wanted to cover him in fuzzy fabric from the fabric store, but it was too expensive so my mom helped me pick out the perfect shade of house paint, brownish yarn made the mane and tail.

The horse was a success! He looked a little stumpy, like some kind of reddish elephant-horse, but to me, he was magnificent! He was strong enough to put a saddle on and ride and to have seen my vision come to life was a satisfying triumph! Later we ended up adopting two horses that were near the end of their lives, it was a great experience having them and taking care of them and I can’t help but wonder if my innocent (and slightly crazy) child’s imagination helped manifest them into reality. The detail I remembered today however, the thing that I woke up thinking about was the littlest part of my red horse.

When we were young, my sisters and I would sometimes cut tiny holes in our stuffed animals and implant little jewels or trinkets to give them “hearts”. Roam got a heart too. In the center of all the stuffing in the bucket, before the layers of wire and mache I planted a tiny, pink, heart-shaped chewable vitamin. This little heart didn’t pump blood and it was no bigger than my thumbnail but somehow, it worked. He had a heart and he loved me. When I think of that little heart I can see it. I can smell it. I can taste it. When I think of that little heart I think, “so this is love...” A child’s heart is less discriminating than that of a world-weary heart and it's easier for a child to love. But we all have something in us, not the chewable vitamin variety, but something much more powerful and amazing and every heart, every heart, every heart is capable of infinite love. Give it freely.

And of course, take your vitamins!

Employed, for now.

I got a job.

I'm really, 

really 

really

glad! 

Now I just have to work my butt off, pay a bunch of bills and save enough to sign up for an acting workshop!  I can't wait!  I'm going to be working hard to finance the life and opportunities I want to create for myself.  What could feel better than that?  Now all I have to do is scrape together the rest of my money to buy the right outfits for work.  This is when my creativity, resourcefulness and poorness combine!  They expect me to wear heels every day so I'm going to have to suffer for my choices but I think I can handle a little physical pain for awhile. 

Lessons learned:

• Looking for a job is like looking for a role.
  
• Interviews are like auditions.
  
• Go for what you have experience in.
  
• Be extremely competitive, dress sharp and show up early.
  
• In LA, telling them you're an actor is like saying, "don't hire me, I'm flaky and a liar".
  
• Be persistent!
  

And finally, I must remember impermanence.  I have a job today, who knows about tomorrow.  I feel grateful now and I'm going to try to keep working towards staying present.

First Night Out

Last night was the end of another long day of job hunting and interviews. Feeling discouraged and exhausted I walked out to my car to head home and found a papery little treat under the wiper.  My first parking ticket.  Too drained to cry and too poor to even begin to think about paying it, I stuffed it in my purse and drove home in a daze.

Trying to keep my chin up I decided a little distraction would do me good, so I took my roommate up on the offer to go out with him.  His friend Lily was playing a final show with her band at The Echo, so I tagged along for what turned out to be the perfect medicine.

We started the evening at The Gold Room where I sipped soda water (due to my weak stomach) and surprisingly ran into a couple of friends of mine! Seeing someone from San Francisco right here in my neighborhood bar totally brightened my mood and gave me the sense of being at home.  After the bar we headed to the venue where we saw three bands. Lily, the lead singer of "Lily and the Ladies" was fantastic and "the Ladies" rocked out. I'm not one to critique music, not really my field of expertise but I will say the whole night was loud, fun, visual and highly entertaining.  The crowd was made up of what appeared to be the Hipster scene on steroids, the hottest and coolest looking chicks you've ever seen and the skinniest boys in the tightest pants.  The fashion, for the most part, was similar to the Mission sensibility but amped way up. 

All of my roommate's friends were totally welcoming and fun and they were all interesting and accomplished people who seemed to have a million different jobs and artistic endeavors.  Overall the night gave me a break from stress, it gave me a nice big dose of fun and it gave me the first taste of my local nightlife.  Once again I'm grateful to have landed in the neighborhood I did, I'm so stoked that I hit the jackpot with my roommies and I can't wait to continue to explore all LA has to offer.  So far so good, sippin' on a coconut Italian soda and gearing up for another job interview.  After that, the beach. Good, free fun and a little nap in the sun.  I think I can do this.

Butt on Cushion

We spend a lot of time looking for the answers to our problems.

OK, how about: I spend a lot of time looking for the answers to my problems.  I dunno what you do.

Sometimes this “time” is during the day, sometimes I’m looking late at night, sometimes, wait… I’m always searching!  I’m so frequently searching for answers, solutions, fixes, and ways to avoid pain and seek out pleasure that I often forget the simplest thing: The Now!

Freedom from suffering is in “the now”, peace is in “the now”.  It’s all here, now!  In this moment… and this moment… and this moment.

Last week was my first week in LA.  It was a roller coaster ride made up of the highest levels of excitement and the lowest and darkest fears.  I made some new friends and connected with old ones, I suffered through the hottest heat and breathed ash and smoke from the burning fires all around, I spent hours and hours each day applying for jobs and even more hours in the car driving, I went to the ER for the first time in my life due to some really bad acid reflux (and a few other little problems in my body which lead me to believe I might have been dying on Saturday night) then I went to Irvine and had some very rejuvenating “mommy time” (with Lissy’s mom, and dad, and dogs, and pool!) I made it back to my room in one piece, got a check in the mail from my own parents (allowing me to survive for the next week or so) and went to three different job interviews yesterday and one today!

Will all this drama happening I hadn’t meditated once!  But last night I finally got my butt on a cushion and found another home away from home.  (Wherever that second “home” may be…)  I made it to Dharma Punx!  The weekly sitting group I attended in San Francisco (with Vinny). Dharma Punx actually has its home base right here in LA with Noah Levine!  I thank my lucky stars (er, um, Stephen) that I know about it.

Meditating last night was harder than it used to be in SF.  It’s easy to bring your mind back to the present when it’s only wandering off to, “who did buy the last roll of toilet paper?” or, “I wonder if that guy’s gonna call?”  But when it wanders over to, “I wonder if I’ll ever get a job, what if I lose my apartment, what if I have to leave California or what if I just become a homeless person?”  Getting “present” becomes a little trickier.  That’s why meditation is called a practice though!  You practice it!  It’s not easy, it doesn’t work over night and it takes lots and lots and lots of practice.

There are plenty of “what ifs” and some are more convincing to the mind than others but the fact remains, this is the now, now this is happening.  Not what might happen, or what did happen, those are my stories.  All there is, is this!  I am here.  Here, is where I am.  For me, this is the key, this is the answer, this is the best thing I can possibly do for myself and this is why I gotta get my butt on that cushion.  Nothing else in my life has benefited me so greatly.  Go meditate!  Now.

Non Sequitur or the Saturday 2-for-1!

Part I:  The Sun Goes Down

In school I always doodled in the margins.  Since I moved from California to Virginia when I was five, it was easy to idealize the West Coast and my drawings often reflected that which I was "robbed of".  I yearned for the Pacific Ocean because I didn’t have it and I perfected my sketches of palm trees associating the cliché symbol with the magical place I felt I was meant to be in.  I wanted to live where the palm trees lived.

Later in the middle of my high school years, we did come back, but of course getting what you want isn’t always what you think it will be.  Just like coming closer to an impressionist work, the image changes and change can be ugly.  Some native Californians I’ve met resent the palm trees because they, in fact, are non-native species.  They are an ugly cliché just like the symbols I used to sketch and they just don’t belong.

As the sun goes down on another hot day in LA I stand on my balcony and enjoy something else as cliché as “long walks on the beach”.  I enjoy a beautiful sunset that no picture can capture and no words can describe.  Peeking up among the buildings are scattered palm trees and as I look at them my heart opens and softens like the pink light all around us.

We may not belong here, we may be loved by some and resented by others but we’re here.  We are all here together for whatever reason and we are all native to Earth.  Hot and tired I enjoy one of nature’s beautiful offerings with the palm trees as my fellow audience members.  The sky is on fire and a moving painting is being created in front of us, more inspiring than anything I have to offer and absolutely free.  It may be cliché but I’m grateful that my breath has been taken away tonight on this balcony.  Maybe one day I’ll have something as lovely to offer to someone too.

Part II: After Dark

It’s 3:19am and I’m awakened by the smell of smoke.  I look around to see where it might be coming from and realize it’s arrived on the slight breeze that finally makes the temperature bearable.  Southern California is burning and I’m being cooked alive.  San Francisco seems like a distant, little heaven.  Dolores Park a lush green oasis and here I am in the smoggy city of [fallen] angels breathing in the smoke and pollution.  But I have to be here.  Too much of a good place can lull me to a dreaming sleep and this dramatic setting is starting to wake me up…

In the meantime, I’m also kept awake by thoughts of my newest guilty pleasure, the British Comedy “Pulling”.  Finally, I’ve had time to watch some (Internet) TV and it’s been pretty damn great!

Unemployment = Finishing “MadMen”, gorging on “30 Rock” and completing seasons 1 and 2 of “Pulling”.

This show is a brilliant dark comedy that has been called “the anti-Sex and the City” and the “anti-Friends” and it is both.  The story focuses on the life of 30-year-old Donna, her radical quest for happiness in a humdrum life and the heart-breakingly tragic ups and downs of her two best friends Karen and Louise.  The three women end up living together and trying to figure out what they want from life and how to get it, helping and hurting each other along the way.

The comedy is the darkest, the plot lines are heavy and the characters are extremely human.  I found myself laughing out loud throughout the entire 12 episodes and already dying to find out more.  I’m completely drawn in.

Another reason to love the show is that the actress playing Donna is also co-creator and writer, Sharon Horgan.  Much like Tina Fey and “30 Rock”, Horgan seems to pull from her life experience and is carefully carving a new place for the female lead in our collective imagination.  Her lead is not a wife or mother, not an ingénue or merely the counterpart to some man, she is a courageous and yet deeply flawed, narcissistic and yet loveable, female anti-hero.

Now, this isn’t to say that the show is overtly Feminist or that there isn’t also a male writer/creator involved, a male love interest character and other ridiculous (but hilarious) portrayals of women.  But what inspires me is the fact that another high profile, female writer-actor is telling a story and acting it out too!  This is exactly the kind of career I fantasize about and I’m just happy to see it becoming a possibility, at least for some!

I don’t want perfect in my characters, I want interesting and funny and complex!  Donna, Karen and Louise possess these qualities among many others and they aren’t anorexic, twig-figures either.  They’re real looking women with interesting bodies and faces and they’re all wonderful actors.  I don’t know where you can get these DVDs, (I borrowed them from my new roommate) but if you can find them, check out the show!  You won’t be disappointed.

Can your people talk to my people and get me a job already?

Day 4, Internet cafe number... eh.

A woman just walked in to buy 10 bottles of water for her crew, "they're shooting just over there" she explains as the barista raises a shapely eyebrow. He helps her carry them across the street and I fantasize jumping behind the counter and stealing his job, you know, I just start serving people as they come in to take refuge from the heat.  Ugh, he's back.

Last night was so hot I couldn't sleep!  It felt like the apocalypse or something.  

Oh my god!  A girl just walked in wearing a pea coat!  What the hell???  I hope it's a costume, if not, I think she has a death wish.  Sorry, got side-tracked.

Anyway, back to the heat, as I lay on my bed (AKA: THE FLOOR) tossing and turning I thought about people in deserts, people in New York city or the deep south, other people with no fans and no AC and I felt a little better.  If they can do it I can!  I'm tough!  I can rough it, and really, I have a roof over my head, food in my fridge and I even have a car and a computer!  I'm a queen!

Le floor=Poor girl's bed. I think it's good for the back or something.  Really!

Draping wet rags over various body parts=Poor girl's AC.  Well it works until they get warm and then dry!  It's something.

Plus I think I can now market the newest fad diet.  I'm going to call it "The LA Diet", you know, like "South Beach", why try to be creative?  It consists of eating oatmeal for breakfast and rice and beans for every other meal.  And then making sure you are dripping in sweat all day and all night.  I really think I've lost at least five pounds this week. Seriously.  Oh!  And I can advertise in the LA Weekly right next to this:

Ok, so I've heard of "vaginal rejuvenation" thanks to an episode of "Californication" but could someone please explain the purpose of a BLADDER LIFT???  What???  It's only $2500.00.  I mean, should I be investing in this?

OK, time to get back to business.  I have a job to find.  Stay cool wherever you are and remember, as long as you're crazy and use your imagination everything is an adventure!  Or maybe the heat is just making me delirious, I dunno...

Oooh, 'water girl' is back and now "her people" want sandwiches!  This barista is not happy. His face is turning reddish.  Maybe he needs my help! 

Reporting From The Front Line: Day 3

• I'm at a cute cafe near my house drinking an iced coffee that just came with cream, there was no asking about it.  It's delicious. *Also, I find it funny that every cafe I've been to alone so far I have overheard cell-phone conversations or meetings about "the script" or "the project".  My, my, these fancy movie people are everywhere here!
• It's hot.
  
• Very hot.
  

(I don't have much time because my laundry is across the street and will need to be rotated soon.)

• No Internet at the house yet but I'll have it once I get us a router.
  
• Day 3 and I've already been to hear live music at The Hotel Cafe, met 3 blonde actresses, gotten lost, (or as I like to call it; went exploring) and dropped off 4 resumes.
• My room is hot enough to host a Bikram class in, but now that I've painted it and started to unpack and decorate it's getting cuter and comfier and the roommates are very nice and welcoming.

• I love the area I live in: Silverlake right near Echo Park.  
  
• It's definitely going to be bikable which is awesome and driving hasn't even been half bad!
  
• I get to listen to NPR in the car which is fun cause I never could before and it's the only time in the day that I get to be in air-conditioning.
  
• So far, so good.  People have been really friendly, helpful and nice!
  
• I need, need, NEED a job because I pretty much came here with no money but I'm feeling very optimistic and excited!
  
• I think I'm in the right place.
  
• More soon...

Over and out.

No More Room

Friday morning was my last in San Francisco. When I left for Santa Fe earlier last week I didn't have to feel sad.  Although, only for one night, I knew I would be back in my city and since all of my belongings were waiting for me in Potrero Hill I felt like I was coming home as usual.

Thursday night, I munched on pineapple and jalapeno pizza, sipped a can of Tecate and tried to get a good night's sleep. In the morning Lissy and I had another goodbye breakfast at Boogaloos (you can never get enough of that biscuit with vegetarian gravy) and headed back up to her house for the dreaded car-loading.

Since the poor girl is completely incapacitated at the moment, due to some serious back problems, the loading was up to me and me alone.

Box by box I brought my things down to the curb and worked on stuffing it all into the Honda. The sun was shining and the huge drops of sweat dripping off my head, neck and chest splashed against the cardboard and milk-crates full of books, notebooks, pictures and art supplies. I squished in bedding, clothes, shoes, toiletries and other odds and ends around the edges and I even managed to arrange about nine canvases throughout car, in various nooks.  

I had already gotten rid of all of my furniture (and have been sleeping on a floor for the past two weeks, might I add...) but I still had two bulky items to worry about. The blue bike and the blue guitar. No way in hell could I part with either, at least not yet, so I stubbornly found a way to get them both in. A few hours and a bunch of bruises later the task was complete. 

Covered in a crust of dry sweat and bike grease, I hugged Lissy goodbye and climbed into my temporary, moving home. With a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel, I made my way down to Santa Cruz to see my sis. Blasting some tunes and singing at the top of my lungs I felt a rush of excitement and freedom!

This is the movie of my life, here I am setting myself free, following my dreams, taking a chance, going on an adventure! Moving alone for the first time ever! Doing my thing! Plunging into the unknown! Here I go!  

I pull up to Nish's house, get to see her for a bit before she has to head to work and then I'm left alone. The sun I had driven down in has been covered by a thick layer of fog, I haven't eaten in hours and I'm starting to come down, way down and fast.

I'm alone, I walk to the Whole Foods nearby, I feel a pain in my stomach and chest and immediately start dialing all my friends. Nobody answers. I leave messages. I stand around the Whole Foods parking lot and stare at the grey sky. I want to cry but mostly just feel annoyed and confused. Low blood sugar? My mom calls and I get snappy and we get into a little fight. This sucks! This is not my big, exciting, fun moment! Where's my soundtrack? Hello???

I go into the store and buy some crappy Indian food from the buffet and a Kombucha. When I get back to Nish's house her roommates are all hanging around eating so I decide to stop moping and join them.

As the food makes it's way into my system and the conversation starts to flow I feel much better. Everyone wants to know about my journey and why I'm going to LA. I begin to give my usual modest answer, "time for a change of scenery, I have some friends down there, bla, bla, bla..." and then somehow the truth comes out, "I'm moving for my acting".

Everyone is full of questions and instead of feeling nervous or uncomfortable I realize, I have nothing to lose! I am moving to get closer to more acting opportunities. In fact, I am moving to do the thing I love most in the world, or to at least try to do it! I'm moving to do something I'm good at and something I understand and something I believe in and I need to start believing in myself. If I don't believe in me, then what's the point?    

The mopey brain-fog has lifted, I am more than ready to jump and fall, or roll, or find out I can fly, or realize I'm a kangaroo, or whatever!  There's no more room in the car and there's no more room for fear. I will ride the waves of emotion as they come and ain't it good to be riding! 

Monday I drive down to LA. I have very little money, a beat-up car named Henry, a few boxes, a blue bike and a blue guitar but best of all I have imagination and determination. Although I secretly wish I had a sword or something, I suppose a pen will have to do for now.  Here goes nothing, and everything!

Cue soundtrack music, please.

High on Henry Miller and Hieronymus Bosch

My body and mind pulsate as this morning’s caffeine makes its way through all systems. Buzzed, and high on Henry Miller, I’m ravenously devouring page after page of “Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch”.

Try as I might to significantly lighten my load before the move I can’t seem to part with a single book and the collection continues to grow as new “Amazon” arrivals reach me daily. I’m an addict.

My first experience with Miller came when I borrowed Justin’s copy of “Tropic of Cancer” a year or two back and I tore through that with an equal hunger. Finding it delightfully timely and perfectly suited for my (then) melancholy mood and general disdain towards life I was drawn in from the very first page:

“I am living in the Villa Borghese. There is not a crumb of dirt anywhere, nor a chair misplaced. We are all alone here and we are dead. […] There will be more calamities, more death, more despair. Not the slightest indication of a change anywhere. The cancer of time is eating us away. Our heroes have killed themselves, or are killing themselves. The hero, then, is not Time, but Timelessness. We must get in step, a lock step toward the prison of death. There is no escape. The weather will not change.” Miller p.1

Pretty grim for a book that actually contains quite a bit of humor but I returned the copy to its owner and only today, received my own. I have recently found a new joy in re-reading books and discovering how different they sound at different times in my life.

Perkier now, in this current period of transition and renewal, I’m finding “Big Sur…” to be written just for me. Perhaps I heavily project, or maybe divine timing really does exist, in either case, I’ll try to share some parallels I’ve drawn so far.

Moving for my art, I frequently ponder the strangeness of abandoning the thriving artistic community in San Francisco for “a pit” (that is, according to the peanut gallery) like LA. However, I’m compelled. Then I stumble upon this, “It is my belief that the immature artist seldom thrives in idyllic surroundings. What he seems to need though I am the last to advocate it, is more first-hand experience of life – more bitter experience, in other words. In short, more struggle, more privation, more anguish, more disillusionment”. Miller p. 13

Reading this my instinct seems, somehow confirmed or rather illuminated. If everyone’s negative predictions come true, I may very well be injecting myself into an environment that will further my disillusionment and stir my bitter distaste towards (parts) of society and life in general. Or not.

I also worry about being so isolated, so potentially alone and far from the comfort of my 7x7 world. But then Miller states that, “artists never thrive in colonies. Ants do” and “what the budding artist needs is the privilege of wrestling with his problems in solitude”. Miller p.13

I have my insignificant little problems to wrestle and I’ve moved many times in my young life. Every time there is a period of real solitude while the new home is being established and during these times, difficult as they may be, my art has always thrived.

As my Buddhist practice deepens I am inspired to go more minimal. Wishing to be free, or feel freer from my possessions and attachments I have been downsizing when it comes to my belongings. It has been an interesting process, sometimes painful but ultimately rewarding for me. When it came to my artwork, I finally chose to let go of my paintings too. Snapping pictures for posterity I have placed about half on the sidewalk outside and will prime the remaining canvases to be used again. Creating a blank slate for my imagination and releasing the work that came before as a snake sheds her skin or a monk destroys his beautiful sand mandala.

“If he is an artist he will be compelled to make sacrifices which worldly people find absurd and unnecessary. In following the inner light he will inevitably choose for his boon companion poverty. And, if he has in him the makings of a great artist, he may renounce everything, even his art”. Miller p.15

Although my physical environment will soon change, I know in my heart it’s of little importance seeing as how my own mind is my reality and this body my current home. An ancient Yogic Sutra by Patanjali states that, “through contentment, supreme joy is gained”. Miller points to a similar notion saying, “one’s destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking at things. Which is to say that there are no limits to vision.” p.25 Can I find contentment or new vision this moment? Can I ever? Will I?

Pressing forward I go, still unsure, excited, always questioning, always hoping. Then scratching all that, trying to let it all go and trying to stay present and mindful. I aim for some kind of yet-to-be-discovered artistic integrity based on little more than my intuition and insanity. Life is good! Onward.

Where Will I Land?

When you happen to live deep in the San Francisco Mission District among the hippest of the hipsters how can you settle for bland? On my internet hunt for rooms in LA I keep wondering, where will I land?

Girl on a budget, moving to LA. Seeking art, music, good food and good people. Bikability a major plus!

I've looked into Hollywood and Santa Monica, Echo Park and Silverlake and now I'm hearing another place worth scoping may be here in Highland Park.

I know nothing can compare to San Francisco but I'm determined to make the best of wherever I go. If I'm surrounded by more concrete than trees it'd better at least be covered in interesting graffiti or trampled by colorful characters. Whatever tiny room I end up in will be stamped with my own eclectic style but wouldn't it be nice if I could find some like-minded friends to create community with?

Here's hoping!

Counting The Days

2 days until I take a look at my first car prospect.

7 days and I'll have finished the purging-of-the-crap ordeal.

19 days and I'm packed and ready to be a travelling gypsy.

22 days and I'm out of my apartment and in with Lissy (still in SF).

37 days until the last day of work.

39 days and I'm in Santa Cruz with my sis for a bit.

45 and I'm driving to LA to stay with Julia for a week.

And about 50 and I hopefully have a new home.

Time speeds up as the move draws near.

The Beginning!

So, I'm still in San Francisco but the move to Los Angeles is getting closer every day and I'm already starting to transition into OTHERLAND.

The process of getting rid of stuff has been both emotionally draining and at the same time liberating!

I'm trying to go pretty light and minimal.

The craigslist hunting has been a trip so far. I've seen everything from college kids to single mom's to an artist looking for a nude model in exchange for free rent!

I've been e-mailing away, trying to save money and just mentally preparing for the big shift.

I recently got to go on an amazing silent retreat at Spirit Rock and the high from that experience lingers and inspires me during these crazy days.

Still trying to meditate and stay present and just let everything flow around me.

I have no place to move in to, no car to drive down in and less stuff every day...

I've never felt better!

All I can do is keep trying to make it happen and keep breathing.

We shall see!

So... if you have a car to sell in SF or a place for rent in LA or if you just want some free stuff from me let me know! It's going fast but I still have some cool junk that I don't need.