I continue to be hypnotized by patterns. My mind is stuck in an endless loop of repetitive brush strokes. The rhythm is soothing. Sort of like my identical drive to school every morning.
I pass the same long morning shadows on the streets. Stop at the same
traffic lights. See the same little Asian man in his sarong sweeping
the same sidewalk in front of his bungalow court. Watch the same
firefighters backing their rigs into the firehouse. Put my cream in my
coffee outside the same blue walls of the commercial laundry. Pass the same day-laborers leaning against trees eating tamales wrapped in banana leaves from the hot food cart. Drive over the same old bridge that connects Lincoln Heights and Chinatown.
As much as I crave the different, there is something about repetition that I savor.
Other than our brief heat wave, the summer is milder than any Los Angeles summer in the last decade. Almost every morning I turn the heat on in the car for a few minutes to get the chill out. Around the house I have the windows open wide, but have to put on long sleeves in the early evening. Most nights I sleep in front of the open window without the ceiling fan on. The box fans I put in the windows every summer night are still in the garage. It's strange and wonderful.
Happy summer evening from Los Angeles to wherever in the world you are. I'm off for a glass of Spanish wine and a night of therapy with Gabriel Byrne. xo