Photo Credit: Mia Lepp
Is it cliché if...I picture the person living here as: someone who only wears vintage, paints on the weekends (the balcony give inspo for days), has a killer signing voice, but only sings "for fun," throws lavish dinner parties, with tons of rosé bottles, mix match plates, and dessert that never gets eaten because it turns into impromptu jam sessions till 5am before that.
Has a lover that only wears black and drives a motorcycle (the one parked out front, and they even used it once to drive across the US), and even though they realize their lover is their soulmate, they won't commit. Often times they debate it when their lover goes to pick up morning coffee as the morning sun beams peek through the curtains, the smog starts to clear, and the breeze falls in, so they put on their silk robe, and walk out to the balcony to enjoy what is their last cigarette because they're planning to quit and start pilates next week because their friend Leah swears it's "life changing" (lol), which they'll soon realize Leah is full of bs and the only reason to wake up really early is for coffee, cigarettes, and love.
Peaceful is what comes to mind when I think of you.
I love who I became because of you. The views, the memories, I'll cherish them all. Oh sweet 1976, you are perfect to me.
We grew and flourished together just like the plants on my floor. Being absolutely humble while saying this, but I have a SERIOUS green thumb.
Please refer to my contact page for any plant/garden advice.
Los Angeles…. Oh my lord! How did we begin this love affair? Truthfully I can’t recall the first time I heard about California or heard a song that sang your sweet melody, but I do remember the first time I visited, I’m a sucker, it was summertime, and I’m a summertime lover.
From that first trip back in 2011 there wasn’t a moment of that time that I would change. Endlessly, is how much I talked about you after, and how I longed to get kissed by your golden sunset once more. You see no matter what you think of LA before you visit it’ll never exactly be what you thought it to be until you find “your place.” While initially that might sound off putting, but it is true. Very quickly you learn if you are “hispster” enough for Silverlake, or craving that lust from the entrainment world in Hollywood, or maybe you’re mellow enough to bike to the beach in Venice. Whatever it may be the biggest advice I have to anyone in LA is learn yourself, and love yourself because through that you’ll find “your place.”
My place just happens to be Los Feliz, while relatively unknown to most tourist it has become my home. From Franklin to Avocado St all the way to the hustle of Los Feliz Blvd you’re exactly what I was looking for in LA. The tall palms that kiss the golden sunset, as it sets behind Griffith Park is a view I enjoy most nights. Or maybe it’s the little sidewalk cafés and the Italian restaurant under my apartment that has me convinced you’re home. Whatever it is, the fact that I found this place is an absolute movie. I should note at this point I am a glass of red wine in, so I might be a little wine drunk on LA, but even when the buzz fades “thankful” is the only word that comes to mind.
For the sake of honesty, and I consider myself an honest person, I figured I should divulge on some details in my life. It’s been a while since we last talked, but back in May I celebrated my one-year anniversary in LA, and how wonderful that was. Leading up to that moment though I had, had a boyfriend, lost a boyfriend, had an internship, had a job, lived by USC, lived in DTLA, and then moved to Los Feliz. Everything up until the moment I moved to Los Feliz felt like one huge life lesson after another, there were tears involved and midnight phone calls to my parents. However, from the second I stepped foot in my little studio apartment a sense of calmness filled my life. Life got relatively stable I had a place of my own, a very well paid job with an insanely popular clothing label, and a solid group of homies in the city. You see though, while I was content, and comfortable, I wasn’t truly happy or hungry for more in my life, which is fine, it’s livable, and I would have kept on in that comfort.
Inevitably, though life is funny, and now here I am my stomach full from a meatball sandwich and red wine on a Wednesday night as a pen my lover letter to LA because I am currently….unemployed (pause for dramatization). Even though that is my absolute reality at this moment, and it is worth noting that the reason for this recent change in employment is just business as usual and nothing personal, it is still my realty. However, being what I have gone though in the last year (tears, belly laughs, butterflies, anxiety, and absolute contentment) I am confident in that LA will hold me through this moment of uncertainty just how we did a year ago when I was scrambling to find a place to live and instead found a neighborhood I’ll forever call home. So while I appreciate any absolute concerns of empathy you might have for me, I know LA and I’ll be ok, no back up plan needed. You see in the end of the day, it’s me and the city, and the city she loves me.
While I have more to share, and this is just he beginning of what I hope to be a long lasting endeavor, I thought I’d pen together this piece to let you all know I’m alright, and I’ll still be home for the Holidays.