Dear Readers of Erinia Jourdanski Semiotician to the Stars:
Santa Monica. I've tried to parse it in many different ways. I've read books about it. The native american tribes that lived here. A place owned by Spain, then by Mexico. Then bought by the United States. The ranchers. The barons. The manipulations of the railroad, ports, and automobiles. A vacation center for picknicking. Drunken lewdness on the streets. Prohibition. The past.
Santa Monica has its own ferris wheel. All cities should have their own ferris wheel.
Other ways, walking the streets an odd mix of stores: the Von's, the Ukranian deli, the Polish butcher. Movie theatres. Fancy restaurants. Tourist tokens. People on cruiser bikes. The homeless man who hides in the hedge of the Korean christian church, smoking cigarettes and listening to his radio. The long white haired homeless woman who limps with her cart who asked me to buy her a cheeseburger. I am heartless and heartful, I gave her money and said buy your own cheeseburger. The homeless man who just walked up to me in library and set a purple flower blossom on my notebook, "from the Mac Fairy." Walking here, the guy who said, hey you are beautiful. I said, thank you. He said, no, thank god, not me.
Santa Monica. I've tried to parse it in many different ways. I've read books about it. The native american tribes that lived here. A place owned by Spain, then by Mexico. Then bought by the United States. The ranchers. The barons. The manipulations of the railroad, ports, and automobiles. A vacation center for picknicking. Drunken lewdness on the streets. Prohibition. The past.
Santa Monica has its own ferris wheel. All cities should have their own ferris wheel.
Other ways, walking the streets an odd mix of stores: the Von's, the Ukranian deli, the Polish butcher. Movie theatres. Fancy restaurants. Tourist tokens. People on cruiser bikes. The homeless man who hides in the hedge of the Korean christian church, smoking cigarettes and listening to his radio. The long white haired homeless woman who limps with her cart who asked me to buy her a cheeseburger. I am heartless and heartful, I gave her money and said buy your own cheeseburger. The homeless man who just walked up to me in library and set a purple flower blossom on my notebook, "from the Mac Fairy." Walking here, the guy who said, hey you are beautiful. I said, thank you. He said, no, thank god, not me.
I have been working on a piece that is slow going, but could prove to be fruitful. Taking pictures of the named buildings of Santa Monica on my walks. The Janice Ann, the Ebb Tide, the Villa Nord. Maybe I can figure out what goes on inside. Maybe I will just make it up as I go along.
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