Ducking the Elephant in the Room
The day takes shape slowly. Getting out the door just happens. Once you do the bus is ten minutes late. Then, so is the MAX, but you don't mind. You've been quietly extricating yourself from time. You wait in the chill beneath an interstate, listening to teenagers gossip. Staring at the spikes lining the steel beams beneath the roadway you think perhaps a bit too long about pigeon deterrence.
Writing (and driving) gone wild
Today I leave Los Angeles for Portland, Oregon. As I do, I look forward to taking an as-yet determined path to my new home hundreds of miles north.
I don't know how exactly I'll get to Portland, though I've set a few ground rules. I won't set a firm date to get there. Though the trip could easily take as little as a day and a half, I don't want to constrain myself to any schedule, lest I miss the world I pass through (you can help me get there, too). I may backtrack. I may make detours. I may decide to linger in one spot staring at the sky for hours. I may rush. I may wander.
Which brings me to rule #2, perhaps the most exciting and most questionable part of my plans. To best experience the journey I plan to completely avoid freeways and even divided highways. Getting to Oregon from Southern California in January makes this a rather daunting task, particularly because I also plan to steer clear of the coast. As stunning as the coast is, I've seen much of it and hunger for a new path, at least this time around.
Koreatown's sign language
This afternoon I ran an errand a couple Purple line stops away. It was such a beautiful day that instead of taking the subway I decided to meander home on foot. Fortunately, before I left the house I thought to grab my camera. I took the opportunity to look around a bit and capture some of my favorite signage and guerrila art in Koreatown. Note Kim Jong-Il's appearances. Guess at which point my sense of humor turned a little juvenile.
Landings
Portland proper, if not its suburbs, swirls with the pot luck attitude of a true community, although strong, valid critiques exist of redevelopment within the city as well. Far more than any place I’ve been in the United States except perhaps, as a matter of fact, the original Portland, this is a self-determined city, including the blemishes of its modernity.
As I land and swirl through so many past worlds of mine, I remember I can move about the city without thought. However, I’m still constantly discovering more beneath Portland's surface. The only time I ever had a similar sensation was at my five-year college reunion last year, and that feeling was aided by the presence of so many others who had experienced that period of my life with me. But where the grounding I find among my undergraduate peers is most firmly rooted in a mindset, there seem to be physical roots here in Portland.
Seen This Week: Feb. 23 - Mar 2
It has been a bit of one of those weekends for me — not to complain to strangers, though ‚ I'll let the images speak for themselves. Highlights include an afternoon on campus at USC, a Saturday afternoon visit to the Bicycle district at Heliotrope and Melrose, and a quick jaunt up the coast to the Red Brick Gallery for Fashion Week Ventura, an event benefiting AIDS Project Ventura.
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