Dislocation 101
I hung out with some new friends yesterday, ran around signing the new lease, and then went back to their house for dinner and to watch a special on Discovery Channel that one of them had done some animation for. We schmoozed afterwards and then packed it in to go home.
Driving down Topanga Canyon Blvd, I elected to take the 101 freeway back to Van Nuys, rather than drive down Burbank ave. Something at that moment struck me - some sense that I was inhabiting some other place and time simultaneously - that even as I was seeing the sign that said, "101 South - Los Angeles" I was seeing a sign that said "76 East - Philadelphia".
The sense of dislocation was acute - I was leaving a place I barely know to go back to a place that isn't home in a city that is still strange to me. Often the strangeness of the new place is exciting - there are countless corners and hidden spots yet to be discovered, here. But last night, I reflected on my drive across the country, countless mile upon thousands of miles of strange sights and an unfamiliar sky.
I have no home, today. But wherever that home is, in the past or in the future, I am far from home.
Driving down Topanga Canyon Blvd, I elected to take the 101 freeway back to Van Nuys, rather than drive down Burbank ave. Something at that moment struck me - some sense that I was inhabiting some other place and time simultaneously - that even as I was seeing the sign that said, "101 South - Los Angeles" I was seeing a sign that said "76 East - Philadelphia".
The sense of dislocation was acute - I was leaving a place I barely know to go back to a place that isn't home in a city that is still strange to me. Often the strangeness of the new place is exciting - there are countless corners and hidden spots yet to be discovered, here. But last night, I reflected on my drive across the country, countless mile upon thousands of miles of strange sights and an unfamiliar sky.
I have no home, today. But wherever that home is, in the past or in the future, I am far from home.
