8th and Normandie

I would say intersections are where my biggest pet peeve of driving in LA takes place. There are plenty of lights that have dedicated left-turn lanes (an interesting thing about LA driving is that you come to learn after a light turns red, two cars usually still turn left). However, there are a lot of side streets that don’t.

There’s nothing more annoying than being behind a driver at one of these intersections where they don’t turn on their turn signal until the light turns green. You’re stuck behind a car that will have to wait the entire length of the light before they can actually make the turn, leaving you to stay behind them through the green light, then having to wait until the next to actually cross.

It would be nice if this was a minor, occasional inconvenience but this probably happens ten to fifteen percent of the time. Given how frequently driving is a part of life in LA, that’s an incredible amount of annoying drivers to deal with. I have about five major pet peeves of driving here and this one is at the top of the list.

These two are five now

Sometime between today and the 28th is the cats’ birthday. It’s not really known, the first vets they saw after being rescued from the streets had to do an estimate when they were just days old and that was late August of 2021. Though I didn’t adopt them until after they’d been fostered for a few months, it’s now been close to five years, and so we’re having a three-day party. (They do not know this, they will just enjoy the benefits.)

Because they are cats, when I initially brought out catnip and treats to celebrate with, they both hid under furniture. They know that unexpected treats can mean being put in a carrier and taken to the vet (or, more recently, moved across town). Eventually they got curious and enjoyed the offerings, but I can appreciate their hesitation.

Beverly and Commonwealth

Hoover and San Marino

New Views (Hoover Street)

Sometimes I think poetry will be the only art form that resonates from this era, the only thing that lasts. When you have too much of something, it becomes less valuable—and right now, even if we were to exclude all the AI filling the internet with slop, the mere technology jump we’ve had over the last 30 years has created an excess of available art. When art was regional, restricted by geography and analog methods of reproduction, sharing it was an experience in and of itself that became an integral part of culture.

Now with billions of interconnected screens, experiencing something new, and possibly profound, isn’t so much a desire, opportunity, or possibility—but an expectation. (Even worse is that experience is now integrated directly into the mechanics of capitalism.) The part of us, as humans, that can be affected by the inspiration of another person (and therefore building a sense of connection at a deep, spiritual level) is being bulldozed by a grotesque combination of algorithms and advertisements.

Thanks Metro (Wilshire / Vermont)

Thus, I think poetry probably matters most in this moment. The best poets are able to connect the dots of the human experience emotionally and physically with both the observable and ethereal aspects of reality that I don’t think any machine could ever reproduce. The one thing humanity will always have advantage of over any coded invention is a soul, and though all art forms can represent that depth of feeling alive, the best poems can touch the surface of what it means to be human, as opposed to what it feels like.

(Maybe I’ve just been putting off watching that Mary Oliver documentary for too long, a mistake I’ll rectify this week.)

It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

—Mary Oliver, “Praying”

What living in LA is actually like most of the time

Today at LACMA I stood next to Jeff Goldblum in front of a giant Matisse for a few minutes. I didn’t want to bother him (plus he had a couple people with him that looked like they were there to protect him from public nuisance), but it is sort of just a thing that happens here and is always funny when it does.