SILVER LAKE MEMORIES

Artist Date #39: LA was Home

It’s hard to communicate how important a house is to the heart of Los Angeles. There’s the history of mid-century modern and craftsman architecture but there’s also so much about the appeal of privacy that makes the city so strange and fantastic. Rebecca Bruno knew this. I met Rebecca at a little coffee shop on Sunset, a space which changed hands a number of times in the seven years we lived on Winslow. She told me right away about her project, homeLA, which was a responsive dance company [now in its 11th year] that performed in different homes throughout the city. The first time I went to one of their events I saw fire dancers on the roof at sunrise and we wandered through a small house in Highland Park where people moved in front of an audience who followed them around through the space. All of us, specters of dreams of home, of cozy, of creativity, of safety.

We lived in an apartment in Silver Lake for seven years and day after day I’d fantasize about what it would be like to live in one of the many gorgeous places that lined our block on Winslow Drive. Our street was lined with so many unique abodes. Across the street from our fourplex was an extremely expensive house that daunted most of the neighbors. The walls were made from glass and I hardly had one full conversation with anyone who lived there.

Down the street were these two particular houses that gave me so much delight. On one side of the street was a split level house set into the hills with a front yard made of succulents. The owner made a scavenger hunt by hiding plastic dinosaurs and small figures inside the plants and the dirt. There were always the same big figures on the roof, big monster shadows outlined on the sky, that surprised me every time I saw them.

Across the street was an absolute opposite house with a yard jam-packed with flowers and high growing bushes, so much that if you were to walk down the path from the front yard your head might be the only part of your body that would be visible. There was also a banana tree right near the porch and butterflies congregated over the whole place. It was full of color and activity.

It was almost like a couple with the same amount of creative energy had decided to move across the street from each other agreeing they both needed full CREATIVE direction to their homes as they had different ideas and shouldn't compromise.

A few hundred feet away was a set of rainbow painted steps that led from our street down to Sunset, where the vibe was immediately full on: a neighborhood street with four lanes of cars that rushed between the west side and the east side all day and all night.

There was a time when I thought I might make a set of tarot Cards about Los Angeles, where you’d pick one from a deck and you’d get instructions to go to a certain location along with an explanation of the spiritual meaning of that person, place, element or thing.

My favorite place was Carbon beach which is a little secret – a beach front full of millionaire properties who, though they tried, could never find a way to limit public access to the beach fronts in front of their houses. You drive down this road and look out for a little brown sign that says, beach access and street park and there you go: you’re on a beach that people use their entire fortunes to establish homes in front of and you just walk down it like it’s your own. If you picked a Carbon Beach card you were instructed to go appreciate the slow drift of the pelicans and look out for the beauty in your life that can not be bought.

If you drew Palm Springs your guides were telling you that you needed a rest. Find someplace, preferably in a dry flat area with little distraction, and turn inward. A pool or some high palms would be nice, something to help you feel at one with all that is still. Take time to feel the most subtle gestures of affection and you will be tapping into what you need most right now.

The Griffith Park mountain lion was a sign that you are feeling out of place right now and may have found yourself in a new landscape, far from your family or perceived friends. Maybe you have moved homes, or jobs, or just moved away from something you deeply identified with. But just because something isn’t part of your origin story doesn’t mean it isn’t a comfortable place to land. If you give it enough of a chance, perhaps you will find new solace in the unfamiliar.

About the Griffith Park Mountain Lion - This guy crossed over from the upper LA area and found himself smack in the middle of the most popular park on the east side. Even though he’s been spotted by the human eye, he lurks about at all hours, sniffing around his new habitat and making himself at home. If he shows up in your cards today, be comfortable being invisible for a little while, and only surface when you feel it’s safe. Give yourself time to explore your new surroundings.

It’s fair to say that the avocado sandwich at Trails saved me sanity as a new mom. This outdoor cafe held tight to a crunchy hippie appeal and had a bunch of hay bales in the back that kids could climb on. There’d often be a long line to the small shack that had snake dogs and coffee and egg salad and avocado sandwiches on healthy bread. Every time the avocados were perfect, ripe and delicious.

Writing this it feels as if I didn’t know Los Angeles at all, as if I barely scraped the surface.