Color Theory
If cities have a color Los Angeles is orange. If you’ve ever used the “Los Angeles” filter on Instagram you know what I mean. It’s honestly too much, orange on orange gives end times. Orange is better when it’s encountered as it should be—standing alone, shocking, accusatory. Ugly but oddly satisfying… you kind of have to let it slap you. Then caress you.
If LA were a sound it would be the white noise of the freeway. The voice of Bradley Nowell crooning on the radio. If LA were a flavor, it would be a Cactus Cooler.
It’s the feeling of an empty 7-11 parking lot at night hanging out with two cars full of teenagers. Someone’s doing ollies on a skateboard. It’s the feeling of deep bass in a low car that stinks of weed going to a party you shouldn’t be going to.
Being in a new city is a little bit like taking a new lover. You’ve seen pictures but they’re always different in real life. You couldn’t have imagined their smell. The corners that at first were so unfamiliar, mysterious, slowly become places you linger, recall in your dreams. You don’t totally know where it’s going or if it’s forever. But you’re willing to be seduced.
Returning to a place that is adjacent to where you are from is like taking back an old lover. Is he going to be different this time? He definitely has changed. You’re nervous, it’s both familiar and foreign. You remember why you left. You remember why you stayed. You remember why you thought of him when you were with other people and you remember the moment where you realized you didn’t need him anymore. Maybe you never knew him at all? You feel his hand on your lower back and you pretend you don’t, an innocent look on your face bearing through the tension and desire until you’re getting fingerfucked in daylight, eyes closed to the brightness, mouth parted open.
If it’s possible to be held by a city, I don’t think Los Angeles ever held me.
~~~
Did you move to LA?
I am getting this question a lot. The answer is complicated.
I no longer have a New York address. But no, I did not move to LA.
I am physically in LA. But no, I don’t think I moved to LA?
The past three years, I’ve been splitting my time between New York and LA. And sometimes I feel truly halved, pierced and torn, like my heart is somewhere else. Like I’m staying with him even though I’m still in love with someone else.
New York is part of my identity. New York has held me. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel like an orphan in LA, despite spending the first 19 years of my life here.
LA is a place of reflection for me. It’s a place I can’t escape my past or reinvent my history. And why wouldn’t you wanna!? The evidence is everywhere, my memories are constantly triggered.
So I have to focus. Find a thread to climb and weave into meaning, a sense of place.
~~~
I began to see orange before we even departed. “Go on a walk and follow a color” read a prompt I collected to help me ease back into my LA existence. LA is really ugly from a plane window, but up close it’s actually quite beautiful. A morning walk is like a fucking jungle safari. There is so much overgrown nature here—flowers rising from split cracks in the sidewalk, hanging over driveways in heavy bushels, the scent of jasmine is forceful, blooming on lush walls. I thought of the orange roses we always buy for our home in LA. The Chateau Marmont orange hued candle we’ve been stretching over two winters.
My first morning back I took a walk, to prove it to myself, and followed orange. It was everywhere. The busses are orange, the sunsets are orange, it’s almost uncanny. There are loquats, and golden poppies, and oranges. Obviously. All the citrus! The citrus that fucks each other and makes weird hybrid baby grapefruit oranges, lemonoranges, tangelos…all in your innocent backyard. The massive orbs hanging, alien fruit on trees.
I purchased an orange dress, like I was getting a sports jersey for my team before the big game. Camouflage like a neon gecko. If I could blend in with my surroundings, maybe I’d become one with them. That sense of belonging, to someone, to somewhere is what we’re all seeking, isn’t it?
