Flesh or Fiction?Part of: LA , Slice of Life
Breakfast: toasted pumpernickel bagel with organic tomato slices and cream cheese.
L.A looks like it’s engulfed in smog from the beach. In reality, it’s engulfed in smog. But what looks like smog today is smoke from the fires. There is a melancholic feeling in the air, despite the faded blue skies in my hood.
It’s been a bit of a weird week for me. It was sad to hear that another talented singer-songwriter, Elliot Smith had taken his life. From what I understand, he stabbed himself with a knife---so dramatic and final. I can’t get that image out of my head. No, there wasn’t a photo of him or anything. I just have a vivid imagination. It made me think about the time when another friend described to me what it was like walking into his apartment and finding his old roommate dead from an overdose. It’s not something you get over easily. I hope Smith’s live-in girlfriend wasn’t the one to find him, but she probably was.
Then a friend of mine let me in on the fact that another soulful singer-songwriter I like was a junkie. So now I’ll wait to hear about when he dies of an overdose. Okay, now I’m being dramatic.
Last night a guy friend called me to share a life changing event that I was a bit shocked by. It wasn’t something that was good or bad, just a major change in his life. It made me think about reactions, because I don’t think I reacted the way he thought I would.
This all brings me to an article in the New York Times today. We probably never know people as well as we think we do. Yet, most of us like the comfort of thinking their internal life is a certain way. Even with reality television and personal journals, we are merely getting different snapshots of a person.