mulholland drive

we parked the car in front of a red curb and got out. we couldnt guess how much the houses cost, there was something boring and sad about them, about how unremarkable and flat they were, but we knew that there must also be something magical lingering in or around them, something that carried them up the valley, past the buildings and the grid and placed them on the lip of this giant canyon, overloooking the rest of it, the parts that need not be worried with because up here, it all looked the same.

downtown and hollywood looked like the same part of town, fairfax and la brea looked like two golden threads holding the place together, too gilded bookends framing emptiness in between. long beach looked like a diamond necklace on the clavicle of LA, south central looked like illuminated graph paper. and all the lights were flickering and moving, attaching to each other and wavering like the heat off concrete after its rained in alabama.

my pointy black shoes had giant holes in the soles. they werent made for this- i fell twice trying to climb the dusty hill that we heard would lead us to the greatest view in los angeles. andy had to hold my arm under my armpit to steady me like i was his frail grandmother. the earth on the way up looked like a georgia okeefe painting, hard mountains and crevasses of pale dirt, ample and soft looking like thighs. when we got up there, the city looked like one blinding burst of light. one giant light, one light that swallowed all the details beneath it.

ryan and gordon spent a long time identifying places- thats the big ipod billboard, thats the airport, thats wilshire and western. i sat on a bench and they stood behind me, pointing places i couldnt see unless i looked up and followed their outstretched finger. i kept saying "isnt that (blank)" and pointing, and everytime it was about one chunk off. i thought echo park was china town, i thought the airport was long beach. its hard, whether youre in it or above it, to get your bearings here.

we stayed up there for a while, wondering how many people were having sex or looking up at the exact place we were standing. we looked at the dark spots- residental hollywood, the area around dodger stadium. we imagined what it would look like if an earthquake happened right then. watching the city blacken in perfect squares, watching the earth crack and buildings crumble.

andy drove the five of us back to his and gordon's apartment, the one we could pinpoint from hundreds of feet above, and from there i drove ryan home.

"isnt it weird that we just saw the 101 and it looked like any other street but in reality its this huge thing that bisects the cityscape?"

ryan was an architect. he could visualize something as bisecting a cityscape.

"yeah. and forget about sex- think of all the people who havent finished a paper thats due tomorrow, or who are having a fight with their roommates, or whose baby wont go to sleep, or who has just run out of toothpaste." it was after midnight, i could think of an infinite many things that happen to people after midnight.

"i know! up there that shit cant matter, becuase you cant see anything. really the only thing we could see is an earthquake." there was a drive by shooting across the street from ryans house the day before. when he came home he had to drive his car around the bodies in the street, covered by white sheets. it happened at a baby shower- 5 people were shot, including the pregnant mother.

"even then- downtown falling to pieces would look like a kid falling. like it wouldnt hurt." we were on the 110 now, approaching downtown, approaching the buildings with lights that never went off, lights that made me poll people with the question- are there people in there doing work still, or do they just leave the lights on after they leave? it was a pretty even divide- some thought that there were still people in there, working, over what i imagined to be a devastating tax problem. others, like me, had to convince themselves that that isnt the case- that the lights just get left on.

we pulled onto raymond avenue. i still expected there to be poilce, or at least crime scene tape around the apartment. ryan began getting out his keys. he held the point of one in between his pointer and middle finger. "so i can give someone a tracheotomy if necessary" he said, as i slowed down the car in front of his door.

"be careful." i said, though i didnt know what exactly being careful would entail. dont get pregnant and have a baby shower. dont live in this part of town. dont be one of those countless flickering lights, those indisinguishable bulbs that arent in any way separate from the whole.

ryan looked around and opened the door. he bowed down and looked at me. "thanks for the ride lil darlin" and closed the door. i relocked and waited for him to give me a wave from his porch.

i pulled into his driveway to turn around. i slowed down as i approached the apartment across the street from his. on the three stairs leading up to the burglar barred front door, there were candles and notes and flowers and in the middle of it all stood a red cloaked virgin mary, her face tilted and her arms opened. she was twice as tall as the tallest candle.

i wondered how long those candles could burn without finally being drowned by their own wax.