Friday, May 30, 2014

Westward Ho

La Brea and Melrose, Los Angeles
May 2014

On the way to my 17th IEP this morning, my eyes leaked tears and I swore to myself as I wiped them away. I won't bore you with the litany of complaints that preceded the tears, many of which are valid and most of which are pathetic, but at La Brea and Melrose, I got into the left turn lane behind a long line of cars and asked for help -- not from God, per se, although I still have vestiges of duty toward that possibility, but rather from the air, the universe, the divine, the whatever. I turned my head to my left and saw what you see above, felt an enormous slap upside the head as they say in the south. Yes, I took that photo while sitting in my car, my head smarting from the force of the blow, waiting through a few red lights, inching along, stripped of impatience, anger, sorrow and panic. Even tears, or tears, even.

That's all I've got for today. The IEP went just fine. When I came home, I lay down on my bed, closed my eyes, thought of other things.


  1. Thanks for that slap upside my head. Still, sometimes tears are a good and righteous option, and hopefully, a release. Hugs, friend.

  2. Something that a guy in Cozumel told me was that no matter how poor you are, you can always find a place to boil a pot of beans.
    That may be true in Mexico. Not necessarily here.
    Don't hit yourself any more. Kiss your hands instead. I do that sometimes. I don't know why but it helps to remind me to be gentle towards myself.

  3. Dearest Elizabeth,

    I am only one tiny cog in this enormous wheel of people who read you and the smaller wheel of those who comment.

    I want you to know that even though I haven't been commenting much lately (due to what feels like the overwhelming - and probably not - complexity of my own life) I read every post and I cry or laugh right along with you. I never even think of validity because I care for you so much and your feelings matter to me, no matter what else is happening around you.

    And I clutched my heart this morning for that man too... as he laid in the doorway of a shop here in Portland on my way to get coffee.

    Your friend, Liv.

  4. For what it's worth, that's a great photo.

  5. jesus. all i could see was that ridiculously sexist "westward ho" poster. i had to look again to see the poor man on the sidewalk. fuck this country sometimes.

  6. Oh shit. That picture. Shit shit shit.

  7. Even when we have it bad, we glance to the side and have it good. That photo - Oh God, the heartbreak.



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