Some things you get over in Southern California, like seasons for one. So when the weather does finally break and raindrops scatter the pavement it’s quite literally, a release. A release of the heat that’s lingered since August. A release of drought condition — if at only for a few days. A release of monotony, boredom.
The rain also reminds me how dry it really has ben. How in January you felt dry heat. Warm air. Focused sunlight. In January, of all months, it became that much clearer that you inhabit a desert. Dry lands surround you and are not bother by changes in weather. By rain, clouds, or what has been described to you as sleet.
In theory, L.A. should be an oasis. It is a place where creative minds gather to generate copy from actors to writers to musicians. But somehow it seems like that all devolves. Is devoured. Not so much a delusion as just an illusion. L.A. is a place where everyone thinks they are unique, but taking a step back you see the same person — over and over and over again. The same type of person populates this city, where it’s most important to be beautiful. And special. And important. So we all become self-important. Versions of ourselves that emerge because of the place we live.
Los Angeles is interesting in theory, but boring in reality. Drought like conditions. But the weather already told us that much.