Snow Whales

(my house in this blizzard,
a mountain underwater
hurtled in the deep by millions
of flakey plankton rushing in
the swiftest current, means just
waiting for the snow whales)


February is the worst month of the whole year. Your whole body is dry and tight, engorged on red meat and chili like a swollen tick, just waiting for a trickle of sunlight, and the first tender spring vegetables. The snow and gray seem to stretch on forever, with a brief interlude of dry grass. Everything feels like a T.S Eliot poem that the world is wearing. But blood is still circulating, and hearts beat very slowly.

Fall

Seems perfect and melencholy: everything is suspended, damp, and waiting.

Winter is only a few months away, but everything is still so vivid. The body of the land feels like it's in anticipation for that fist snow fall, for flakes to be devoured by the hungry dirt. In this little town, all the streets have turned from parched gray to a slick, saturated black. It feels like a time for traveling, but also for nesting on the couch with blankets and tea.

Caffine in the Morning.

It's the last legal drug, and it's a stimulant. That's pretty amazing.
On top of that, it's delicious: the brewing and preperation of coffee and espresso has become an art form. There are literally competitions to see who can make the most lovely latte:

http://www.world-latteart-championship.com/

On a cold rainy day in early October, this seems like the best idea in the world.

Los Angeles

What was it that made early settlers consider Los Angeles heavenly?

Obviously, a little further down history road, it began producing oil (so celestial), airlines and motion pictures, but what was it about the dry patch of dirt that so inspired pobladores to name it after winged messengers of God?

The largest cities in the United States reflect all the good and evil that goes on in this country. When you have over three million people, all from different backgrounds and speaking different languages, crammed into one area, things are bound to get symbolic. 

L.A is one of the world capitals of service economy - lots of low income jobs and a few high paying jobs. Although minimum wage in California reached $8.00 in 2008 -- a full sixty cents higher than the $7.30 workers get in Ohio and $1.85 higher than minimum wage in Minnesota -- the kind of lifestyle based on eight bucks an hour is still not so heavenly. If "real" angels had to live on those kind of wages they would have pawned their halos to make last month's rent. 

At the same time, though, L.A's vast and diverse population makes it a seething hotbed for new ideas - about art, about writing, about society. The city boasts some of the most powerful and expressive graffiti artist (check them out at http://www.50mmlosangeles.com/ and http://graffitila.com/) Perhaps it is this sort of potential for new extremes and philosophies that makes Los Angeles celestial. Even if it is gritty and feral, isn't there something in the bible about the whore feeding her children being holier than the unjust tax collector?