Life sustains itself with contradictions. Take a leap of faith and the net will appear encourages the timid to jump assuring them that life and maybe Walmart will have their back when times are bleak. This same sentiment emboldens risk-takers with a promise of safety regardless of the level of wreckleness attached to their choices. On the other side of the tortilla, we have the phrase, look before you leap, to empower the cautious with comfort that their spreadsheets and detailed- planning is not excessive because after all they cannot buy a car or a scooter without fully understanding what comes after the purchase. This same notion annoys the fools that rush because it reminds them that sometimes running without knowing what is in the dark is not just adreanline chasing but can result in being eaten by a big bad wolf or piranahas. I say all this to give weight to the following contradiction: some people have lived in LA so long that they believe everything has been seen and done, while other longtime Angeleno residents believe that there is still wonder to discover in LA's streets. I kind of settled into the I have seen much of LA, there is little to discover. And then I went to Barnsdall Art Park and i was reminded that LA's beauty is truly never-ending.
I have never been to this park, even though I had heard it. And I know this is easily challenged and debunked but I arrrived to this place on the night I should have visited. Because when I went there was a celestial event viewing my stroll: a lunar eclipse. That is why the views were more than stunning, they were uniquely framed by what seemed to be an organge blood moon. But before we get to the moon, I have to discuss the parking situation.
I saw an open space in font of the park. But I decided not too park there, LA parking can be weird with its signs. So I entered the park and drove around for about 15 to 20 minutes trying to find a place to park and then I did. It was easy but required patience and not exiting the purpose due to frustration. Patience is watiing, enduring frustration is intention.
I walked into the park and the first thing I felt was that the air and sights seemed to be scorching quietly and without menancing intent. Like the air on top felt on fire but the fire did not burn, it was embedded into the early-evening-moment like patches of quilt sown to make two, one of the whole. Then I saw the steps that led to a gorgeous lush scene with those big tall trees that line a palacial walkway to the palace's ornate front door. The same kind of trees that kind of define Greystone Mansion. This was being in nature in a comfortable way.
As I continued to walk I discovered the art festival they were holding in August. I am not recalling the name. But, as it was explained to me by a vendor, that it was PBS giving free airtime to folks and people could view the taping. Maybe I am wrong, but it sounded about right. There were also vendors selling items. One of them was selling taped recordings of his podcasts. Very nice market, I know. But he said that him and his partner discussed different funny stories, like for example a hitman was hired to kill some ducks in Florida. And he and his partner would make riffs off that---- one might be, the ducks had their final bill coming. But who listens to tapes anymore? After that I came to the view.
There it was, LA in a summer night. It was epic, Like seeing LA for the first time, and feeling its old wonder at the same time. I brought a towel and sat. And sat. There was a wine party going on in the back. But I just sat. And then, 9 to 5 came on, the Dolly Parton song. She recently passed. I have heard Jolene, I have seen Dolly on the Orville, I have seen the billboards that reminded us to see the good in people as Dolly does. Her death struck me. The moment allowed me to cry just a tad. Not really because of Dolly but because the moment allowed for tears to flow when one things about stuff. Meaning that the place was honestly one where reflection became appropriate and easily achieved. The place had serenity and space. Siddharta could teach here and match his name's reputation.
I continued to walk and then I saw the sight of the Griffith. One I had seen many times before. But here the Griffting changed its form. I am not sure if it was the summer night but that is what i saw--- a stronhold lt by fire on sticks that was placed on holders that lay on walls. Then I continued to walk and saw the moon over a housed area of LA. The moon was full and it was orange. The houses seemed like villages, lit by candlelight too. I thought if there was a real version of a Halloween town this would be it. I was honored to take a clip because it was a moment scored by happily-eerie moonlight. The majesty of the pictures might just be the result of my latest i-phone. But I would like to think that I witness/captured a moment of LA beauty that was ephemeral in the loveliest way! read more