LA's Subliminal Message: GTFO

When I first got to Los Angeles, people would cynically tell me, “Oh, give it time, you’ll become jaded,” or “You’re so new here, of course you love it...now.” I’d secretly hate them and vow to never stop thinking about this land of opportunity I call home. I work here, I play here, I drink sweet potato coffee here. (That is a real thing and it’s better than pumpkin spice, I swear!)

The last few weeks, I’ve come down with a minor case of the blues. Not sure there is a real reason. I’ve just  felt uninspired, unmotivated, and quite frankly, a little hopeless. I haven’t wanted to write jokes. I haven’t wanted to sit through an open mic. It became easier to wake up and run 5 miles then binge watch episodes of “Shameless” until it is time to go to work. I have barely even worked at promoting my voice over business. (Which, is going really well...so I can’t even imagine how much MORE work I could get if I spent some time marketing myself again. All I can do is say “Thanks, past Maggi. You really busted your butt to help me out this month!”)

I know these minor blues never seem to last too long. In fact, my desire to create something has been bubbling under the surface for a few days. I’ve tampered with writing a new joke. I’ve written a few journal entries. But it doesn’t seem like enough. The craving to create hasn’t been satiated. So I decided to go for one of my famous photography walks. A long walk to clear my brain and just let the city inspire me.

Even The Flowers Try To Escape

During my 3 mile loop this evening, I found myself shooting a noticeably depressing pattern. Fences, gates, trespassing signs. “NO” came up a lot this evening. It dawned on me that LA, the place I call home, may have been subliminally telling me “NO” and “Get Out” this whole time. Everything has fences. Everything is locked away telling passersby to steer clear. It’s been in my face this whole time “You aren’t welcome here.” No wonder I’ve been feeling down. My city doesn’t want me!

Safe Trash

I mean, even the trash cans have fences. Does our trash need to feel safe? What do we need to feel safe from? The mountains of couches and forgotten furniture on the curb?

Here’s the thing, how could I encounter so many polite people this evening in a place so seemingly negative.  I crossed paths with nothing but, “hello’s,” “have a great night’s,” “what’s up,” and “My dog is friendly.” Is no one else affected by LA’s hint to “move along?”  Or, are we all passively noticing and just trying to make the best of it?

Questions circled my brain all evening. Is everyone an onlooker? Is anyone doing anything? Are we all just outsiders looking in? Is this why my comedian counterparts hate the people here? Our environment has been poisoning us with messages of negativity, whispering “You don’t belong here” or “this place is too good for you.” It’s no wonder everyone is so jaded here.

Outside Looking In

NO Playing Outside

It’s also no wonder that I’ve made some of the best relationships here. People who are warm, kind, generous in spirit and creative. My hypothesis? These people don’t see the blockades. They are too busy looking for the open window.

God Closes A Door, Somewhere He Opens A Window

 "Come To My Window" Melissa Etheridge
I chose this song because of this lyric: "You don't know how far I'd go to ease this precious ache, and you don't know how much I'd give, or how much I can take."
I'll look for the window of opportunity. And really, how much can I give? How much can I take? A lot. Just you wait Los Angeles. I'll crawl through that window and make it my 'b.' You'll see.










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