Here I am, in the city I was born and raised in, reflecting on how I feel about this place. I’ve never been one to get overly nostalgic about places and things in my past. Spaces and the people who inhabit them change, legacies are born, grow and die within them. It might be caused by my the mercurial living arrangement but it’s my home though.. I think I’m going to miss it when it comes time to finally leave it.
This city, Los Angeles, is categorized by many things, it’s identity composed of many different synchronous parts that ebb and flow on any given day. The identity of which is the amalgamation of all of these parts creating a look and feel beyond just these seemingly clashing identities. Like many major cities, Los Angeles has a distinct feel to it. Sure things change rapidly here because the influx of migrants trying to find their own California Gold but even then, Los Angeles remains itself through all of these changes.
From movies to music, art to history, Los Angeles has many things both visable and invisible. It’s interesting though, because of how Los Angeles is, were all together and separate at the same time. Driving place to place, seeing things and people pass as of the wheels in the cars turn. People are always going somewhere, even if the destination isn’t quite yet known.
To me this city is gray, the colors of the cityscape and the people who dwell in it are gray. This city is marked and marred by the overwhelming cascades of concrete highlighting the functionality of a city built in the twentith century. It’s a place that has far outgrown it’s intended capacity but continually changes to meet it. The tendrils of this expansive city stretch out hundreds of blocks in either direction highlighting how different each little section of this whole city can be. The people all relate mixing a matching to one another, coloring light and dark to make a color that appears at first to be boring but deep down it made up of some of the most exciting colors in the world.
It’s like this, I used to hate the skyline here, with its flat tops and square buildings never really adding a sense of character to the view. As time goes on, I can understand this functional beauty, this uniform madness that cast shadows over the streets during the hot summer days. We all have systems in dealing with the oppressive heat, the dense traffic, and lack of parking. Once you get used to it there is a sense that nothing really surprises you anymore. This wild and controlled place is constantly barraging you with things to do, people to see, but plays all these unique characteristics off as just another Saturday night, never making a big deal about anything.
This gray, cool gray, highlights it all. This cruel and loving city, this exciting and boring place, you’re both beautiful and ugly to me which makes me love you.