Saturday February 24th 2007, 10:38 am
Filed under: All Letters,Love Letters

To the perpetual movement,

It’s been two weeks since I’ve landed in Los Angeles. Not a day has gone by since the initial landing where I’ve had time to sit and contemplate the consequence of my move. If I’m not moving boxes from house to house, than I’m reconnecting with old friends and colleagues or trying to find work. The job market for design seems slow and retarded. Therefore, I am still jobless. However, my inclination is, when desperate times arrive, something will turn up. The house I was living at in Highland Park was wonderful. My neighbors were chill and their pet pit bull loved me. Brianna, my roommate was a beautiful woman who has so much potential and talent. I must say, I’m a bit jealous of her knack to throw together fabric in sequences that, for lack of a better adjective, stun. Even though I really enjoyed living in Highland Park, I can’t stay there. An artist studio opened up in downtown LA, and I had to jump on the opportunity to have my own studio. However, the rent for the studio, plus the rent for the room in Highland Park, is too much for this out of work art kid. Therefore, I moved out of the house, and into the back room of my friend’s place in Echo Park. The rent for the room is half the price as the rent in Highland Park. The only setback to this ultimate machination is that I am sharing the back room, which resembles my parents’ closet, with another person. It’s not that I mind sharing the space; the problem lies in the fact that there literally is only enough room for one person in the space. But I have faith that everything will work out, and our ability to share the space will overpower our need for personal space. Anyway, I plan to be in my studio more often than sleeping at home. But let me let you in on a little secret, Mindy. I’m scared to paint. Can you believe it? I am intimidated by the high caliber of artists in which I am sharing my studio space. But this fear will hopefully dissipate once I actually push pigment along the canvas. For some reason, I doubt you care about my fears. But beyond this doubt, I still want to share with you a glimpse of what’s going on in my life. It’s been quite tumultuous these past few weeks, yet my hope is that once things calm down, in terms of moving and unpacking, I will settle back into a routine which will help guide the stressful doubts and fears which rule the inner circles of my consciousness. What have you been up to these days? It’s been a few weeks since I last spoke with you, and I’m beginning to suspect that it’ll be at least a few months more until we casually pass a friendly “hello? to one another. Have you met a new lover? Are you still house sitting? What’s the summer San Francisco weather like? Los Angeles is going through a heat wave, which is causing quite a few electrical blackouts throughout the city. In fact, I am writing to you in my underwear because the heat is too unbearable fully clothed. As I look down at my chicken legs, I’m almost blinded by how pasty they are. These legs are definitely not fully cooked. However, my upper body has its usual farmer’s tan from the repetitive wife beater I wear that allows a breeze on my shoulders. Well, you have yourself a good night love.

-Thoughts in motion.

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