Two Observations
I've been jotting down little observations of life here the last week or so. When or if I move (can't imagine being 40 in Hollywood), I want to be able to look back at these writings and remember the little things and how they made me feel...they're just snippets that probably only mean something to me. Everyday I see something that sets off a spark of some sort. It's been a long time since I've been at the computer to sit and write. Over three months now. At least I'm doing this much...
Tree Trimming
They're trimming the California Sun Palms along Hollywood Blvd between Fairfax and La Brea. 60 ft tall, looming and spindly, distant green tufts swaying against the blue sky, brown fronds folding and collecting underneath in big bunches, heading to the ground, ever so slowly and inevitably, all of it resembling some weird form of male palm-lion.
I sat at the light facing west at La Brea and watched the workers sliding off the brown dead fronds, making it look easy, like the fronds were just slipping off silently, sliding off and slipping down thru the morning air to the cool pavement below to collect in heaps of their once-green but now dead brothers, in dust and palm particles.
But what the workers were probably really dealing with was a chainsaw, muscles straining to cut through the bark, tree bits and bark and dust flying out and bouncing off their safety goggles...
Conversation
A heated conversation on Hollywood Blvd between a man dressed in a strange collection of mismatched clothing, violets and whites and patterns, a blonde scruffy beard sprouting from his permanently reddened face left too long in the elements and possibly (most probably) soaked and pickled in cheap booze... arguing with a person in a wheelchair, pointing his finger down at the sidewalk, emphasizing, leaning down to the figure underneath a dirty blanket draped over his legs, his body mostly obstructed from my view by a large pole stuck in the sidewalk, next door to some star etched into the famous marble, someone's star with a name that I don't know from television, radio, or film...it's early morning and the hazy, overcast marine layer is burning off, and the sun is starting to come through, and there are already tourists equipped with fanny packs and expensive digital cameras, out and about, passing by the intense conversation on my left without so much as a glance...
Tree Trimming
They're trimming the California Sun Palms along Hollywood Blvd between Fairfax and La Brea. 60 ft tall, looming and spindly, distant green tufts swaying against the blue sky, brown fronds folding and collecting underneath in big bunches, heading to the ground, ever so slowly and inevitably, all of it resembling some weird form of male palm-lion.
I sat at the light facing west at La Brea and watched the workers sliding off the brown dead fronds, making it look easy, like the fronds were just slipping off silently, sliding off and slipping down thru the morning air to the cool pavement below to collect in heaps of their once-green but now dead brothers, in dust and palm particles.
But what the workers were probably really dealing with was a chainsaw, muscles straining to cut through the bark, tree bits and bark and dust flying out and bouncing off their safety goggles...
Conversation
A heated conversation on Hollywood Blvd between a man dressed in a strange collection of mismatched clothing, violets and whites and patterns, a blonde scruffy beard sprouting from his permanently reddened face left too long in the elements and possibly (most probably) soaked and pickled in cheap booze... arguing with a person in a wheelchair, pointing his finger down at the sidewalk, emphasizing, leaning down to the figure underneath a dirty blanket draped over his legs, his body mostly obstructed from my view by a large pole stuck in the sidewalk, next door to some star etched into the famous marble, someone's star with a name that I don't know from television, radio, or film...it's early morning and the hazy, overcast marine layer is burning off, and the sun is starting to come through, and there are already tourists equipped with fanny packs and expensive digital cameras, out and about, passing by the intense conversation on my left without so much as a glance...
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