Mars in NYC

But first it was Washington, DC thanks to a one day return of the winter who had forgotten to say goodbye. It's late March, something else should've been in place, and so everything was rerouted to the neighboring cities. I chose DC and from there a train ride to NYC, through the winter, through New Jersey, in a Polar Express that reminded why trains will forever be "the" transportation. Afterwards, The Bronx was a focal point for the most part due to the remarkable brutalist architecture spread out here and there and also because I had never been to Bronx.

Washington Subway

Washington Union Station

Daylight Pepsi Sign Long Island City

Night Pepsi Sign

Tracey Towers Bronx

Bronx College Brutalism

Joyce Theatre Chelsea

the 4th anniversary

This time, in shortage of short trips, we set on Central California. It wasn't a shortcoming at all. In fact the little winery, Rancho Sisquoc, a few miles out of Santa Maria, was a sweet spot all throughout. The wine production is on the small size, with us not having seen their wines in any shop prior to that. Coming from LA it was a bit of a drive, beautiful nonetheless, few cars heading the same way. It felt a bit isolated, but at least I was enjoying that and here we go having thoughts again on if we could live in the countryside and for how long and how to kill time. It ended as always with a rejection, it was clear we couldn't do it for too long, we could never be there in that isolation - even with all that beauty of nature - for too long. So we're destined to be city folks on the excuse that art, coffee shops&shoppings were essential living. Nature, essential as well, had to intrude intermittently. Next day, first we checked the dunes at Rancho Guadalupe which, windy and loud, did not drive away the thought that I was still between two large cities, San Fran and LA, a thinking that always hindered the development of disconnection. It always felt in Central California that I could not fully relax being in between large metropolises even tho they are a actually at a great distance from each other. The pressure of large human presences North and South squashed the freedom in the center?! Afterwards we headed for Jalama Beach - easily a top spot among Pacific Coast beaches. The discovery of the place came in an unusual way. There was a list of best burger places outside cities of California and Jalama Beach Store came at the top. And that wasn't a lie, the burger joint is sound, the beef patty juicy, the shredded salad just enough, the dressing on the bun not overpowering - a combination to keep you focused and also thankful they had an indoor space with tables to watch the outside wind (Jalama means wind) and ocean unchanged in that arrangement for million years.

Portland and nearbys

The search for snow was at the origin of this. Unlike previous years, Big Bear, only a 2 hour drive from home, was/is without snow or any other kind of winter manifestation. It’s like spring there with a bit of cold during night. Enough with meteorology. Portland and its nearbys is where we set to meet the winter, and while the winter awaited us not far from Portland, Portland itself took a break from rain and brought a smile on people's faces. now what is it to say about the city? everything to say was in comparison to Los Angeles, thus everything sounded better. Ama was keep asking what's with the always green around, and I explained the situation with the Pacific Northwest and the rain, the rain raining, the rain chain. I mentioned how Washington state is nicknamed "The Evergreen State". but it seemed that this rain everlasting rain didn't influence the city much, the citizens couldn't care less, they rode bikes and walked the streets in such a way that Missing Persons could never write a song about that like they did with Los Angeles. this was our second time in the city, first had been exactly 4 years prior. like then the vibe was about friendship and being hip, youth that almost made us feel old, and perhaps coffee keeping the youth friendly and hip. no taxes - and nothing else to say about that, the joy of looking at a restaurant bill will tell you everything, and the subsequent should we move here? the normality comes in different shapes and colors. there're parks and trams. crime is low, infrequent, and the feeling is one of "fine, I'll just walk home if no tram or cab comes by". the Ocean and Mt Hood are close enough, equally spaced from Portland, and the ride to them is countryside and green. there's a sense of poverty rising out of the side views, like anywhere farmland, but it doesn't seem that awful. Colombia Gorge is much closer. at the Ocean, Canon Beach is the fancy people's stop, while Seaside is the low income paradise, sort of. we arrived at Astoria in darkness and could only get the vibe the city was decent enough, with a riverfront that invited rather than rejected. the centerpiece, a large bridge, wish it was lit to have at least an idea. at Mt Hood, Timberline Lodge is a perfect example of construction harmoniously integrated in nature, almost an extension to it. it doesn't feel at all offensive toward Mt Hood rising just behind it; it feels more like something kneeled and perpetually thanking to the mountain for making sense of its existence. The Shining only used the facade, but that's enough to make everyone excited.

Julian pies and the brutalism within UC San Diego

I always get excited when it comes to traveling for food, in this case desserts. but in US this quest never brought the real food one would feel truly motivated to travel for within Europe: to Italy for pasta, pizza, to France for croissants, wine, cheeses etc, to Germany for sausages, beer... and so on. we have Julian shy of 3 hours from Los Angeles, a destination for pies, specifically apple pies. They're famous for apple orchards and the derivates, pies in this case, which pies are something thick and unrefined, something that doesn't require much work and a specific science (like a croissant, spaghetti carbonara, Bavarian sausage etc.) but what the hell, if this is all we can get here at least hope was the pies would be fresh. And indeed they would. The drive there would be agreeable, a bit long tho, yet passing thru little towns, little hills, with little traffic and perhaps little expectations too. would their apples be GMO free, I asked myself? Unlikely. would there be something else to do in Julian in case the pies were horrible? probably not. but the town had a mining past and proof was the Pioneer Museum that sadly closed early that day. Next day, honoring the exceptionalism of Brutalist Architecture we checked UC San Diego because there are some pretty remarkable pieces: Salk Institute and Geisel Library. Although money is not an issue with the profit conscious US educational institutions, most campuses are ugly, built around economic and efficient, beauty seemed unknown reason to build.

seeking fall where fall doesn't live

first day we sought for it in Mount Baldy. there was nothing there, almost nothing. a few yellow leaves that put together couldn't dress up a tree. it felt like running for chimeras, even tho the scenery was breathtaking. one aspect noted: the amazing thing about Los Angeles is that without a transition between the flats and the heights, in a heartbeat you're up in stratosphere. similarly, the temperature, blazing hot at the mountain base into the 3 digits, drops 20 degrees just 15 min later. so it was very pleasurable in Baldy, and the silence sublime. and there were trees. green. The Fall - that specific fall that I've been missing since moving to Los Angeles some 11 years ago - I found not much of it and disappointment grew when I realized that there might not even be one(fall). how come I didn't realize this all these years? well, all these years I was able to do back East where Fall lives. this year I didn't go. Driving up meaning to higher altitude, the road ends and from there there's a 10 min walk, on a paved alley, to a tiny waterfall that you might miss if not looking closely.
a day later I did the same but on my own. I chose to go toward Big Bear. I found a little more of what looked like leftovers of fall. it felt very good, it felt I could stop and listen to the surrounding - I would be calm enough to do that. took a new route, CA18, to reach Crestline and the Lake Gregory. this little town is charming by how it built its relationship with the lake - it's all a park around it, peaceful and safe, still open to everyone, money didn't interfere yet. Blue Jay and Lake Arrowhead, a little richer and fuller in shopping, with no opening to the lake itself - because it's taken - confirmed that money interfered dramatically here. but I still liked it, even strangely declared that I could live there. higher up was Big Bear Lake. I arrived there in the same time with the night. I wasn't upset because I had seen Big Bear before, and because it is a lot higher, foliage doesn't appear but briefly, a lot earlier than this time, when you don't feel the need for fall yet. Big Bear Lake feels remote, highest, at some end which is true as there's nothing beyond that except the ski resort and bear territory. there's is also a sense of serenity around, a peace that you cannot find at lower altitudes which are denser in population, traffic. one common thing all-around is the wooden bear statues. I eve found a dedicated yard full with statues of standing bears ready for sale. the village is charming - how could not that be - without Starbucks or other corporate businesses and pretty original in its self. during the week is a much better time to stop by if you're not so fond of crowds; you can literally listen to the nature which doesn't speak in some way and that is what makes it so lovable.

the lifeless body

daddy's. isn't it crazy how now you're live and now you're dead? and the roles cannot be reversed? once dead, it's forever? maybe I'm crazy, stupid to not understand life, stupid to not accept the cycle - we come and go, man, we're nothing, NOTHING, we live as a whole, we, the human race are all the same, one single body, you have to look at it this way to understand. understand what? that I'm nothing? we are nothing? and that we are something only as a whole? what is that going to do for me? and if I think this way it's called selfish? daddy left, his lifeless body - or I should say his lifeless self if the body is all that it is because it kind of sounds that only the body is lifeless and he, daddy, has just gone somewhere else, which I think it'd be awesome if…- was so different than with just a couple of days prior when he put on a show on the riverbank of Danube, barefoot, standing on shallow water having one of his favorite speeches about how much he loved the river, the city, his life as a carpenter and so on. I had heard it before a thousand times but how could I be bothered? believe me each time I heard the speech it made me happy, in fact I hoped he would have the speech again and again, it never sounded as a repetition, it was just daddy's cuteness talking to me, to a lucky son. this year I went again across the river Danube from my hometown to approximately the same spot where last year I stood listening and he stood the showman. Needless to say how sad this re-enactment was. I'm no showman, in his company I mostly listened, and now I did the same. The wind was low and didn't bring any outside sound. The water was calm and no wave was arriving. I thought about being barefoot but had never been so quick to act like daddy, so I dropped that mind. Barefoot are the showmen, standing on the calm, shallow water talking to a listener. That wasn't me. So I just sat there and remembered the whole thing, his cuteness overwhelming me. It was beautiful but painful also, he would never come back, he will never come back, I'd be without him until my death, I will be without daddy until my death.

first half of '17

my coffee, her coffee, and cereals. together we began again and it's wonderful, I seem to not realize it at times, but it's a miracle when I look at it later. I managed to combine my self with her self. I managed to unite two bodies. I managed. Then it rained in LA, a rare thing so rare the plants don't know what to do, thus they spring everywhere and look wild in the city, I meant in an organized place. The snail couldn't believe his eyes, he finally had purpose for the huge roof he carries allover. He can finally stay under the "cover" but why, why not checking out the wet. At The Imperial Dunes I built a distance between me and her to see how her beauty overpowers the sand dunes, and then we reunited again celebrating 3 years of the successful chemistry of combining two bodies and minds into ONE. That Pink Door is from the future as the entire Palm Springs looks to me a city from the Future - I was telling her that, one night heading for a stroll in triple digits temperature, in the city of Future. And then it was Dan who said GoodBye when nobody wanted to hear it from him, but Dan was set for another adventure, and we could only get together to miss him.

winter actuality

about the actuality, one must write. I can only recall daddy's winter stories about the snow and frigidness and how greatly they influenced people and nature. The zeal he used to tell them put me in his boots, made me step against the fierce wind, kept me for hours above the ice-hole I had dug in to catch some fish, spurred me to feed the animals… this is the actuality of missing a winter, or missing winter all together

Canyon Reign

at Bryce I descended all the way to the bottom of the canyon, this being a different type than Zion where you are already on the bottom. in Bryce you're on the top, like at Grand Canyon. for a moment it was just me, all others either didn't have the go to reach the bottom or had done it before me. once there, at the foundation of the tall walls and columns, the silence was indeed heavy, the fear hard to avoid... I feared an animal, mountain lion, could jump on me from above, right at my neck, and that was the end. maybe you could fight it face to face but if it grabs your neck you're his meal. then I even feared a powerful hawk could descend right on my head and with two quick beak strikes would have access to my multicultural brain. certain is, there were many places to hide, difficult to keep an eye, I sweated also, had to watch my steps first then the above and behind. this tells you I didn't quite enjoy it, but back up where all the tourists were, I posed into a winner and told my wife how brave I felt down there, being alone, how I enjoyed it and felt I could go on and on thru the canyon if it wasn't for her and the coming darkness.

back to Romania 08/23/16 - 09/09/16

I must say about this, I must. It turned out, 2 days after I returned to Los Angeles, that this had been the last trip with daddy. With daddy. It will never be another one. With daddy in all forms of possibilities: laughing, goofing around, holding me in his arms, storytelling new things about his childhood or just repeating the same ones (which case the enjoyment was the same), asking me about America, and last but not least asking me when I was going to come back so we can go fishing together and be around each other as he was turning older and older, with the answer alway being: I'll do my best, dad. I did my bullshit instead. forgive me forgive me, please forgive me...