My heart cried out for you, California
Hi!
A portrait of LA life the week the fires started, told through the photos, videos, and screenshots on my phone:
Jan 7
Video of wind whipping around the backyard. Photo of a downed tree branch in the front yard. Screenshot of a Joan Didion quote about the Santa Ana winds.
Jan 8
Photo taken from bed of smoke clouds to the south. Screenshot of the wildfire map app Watch Duty — my neighborhood is in a “Red Flag Warning” zone. Screenshot of a former Real Housewife of Beverly Hills’ request for prayers. Screenshot of my coworkers checking in with each other — two out of five have already fled LA. Screenshot of a tip to walk around the house and film everything in case you need proof of your possessions for insurance. Screenshot of a tip to turn on "Local Awareness” in your phone’s emergency alert settings. Screenshot of a tip to hose down your roof. Screenshot of my ticket to see The Brutalist in case we end up going (we don’t). Screenshot of a post with seven fire tips and the text “LA I LOVE YOU.” Photo of the smoke again. Screenshot of Johnny’s update on his parents’ house. Screenshot of the Universal Studios Minion below a dark sky. Photo of the smoke again. Screenshot of the Shakespeare Bridge circa 1928. Photo of the smoke at dusk. Screenshot of Norma Desmond’s Sunset Boulevard address on the Watch Duty map (not in danger, but on the border). Video taken walking around the house, filming everything in case I need proof of my possessions for insurance. Video inside the garage as well. Screenshot from a FaceTime check-in with Joey and Jack. Photo of Kyle sitting on the floor, stressed. Selfie, stressed. Video documenting every vinyl record that didn’t make the cut for my go-bag. Another video documenting the house for good measure. Screenshot of the Watch Duty map zoomed in on the Sunswept Fire and the Sunset Fire. Photo of the TV — we are failing to unwind with Gilmore Girls.
Jan 9
Screenshot of a friend’s friend’s GoFundMe. Photo of a gift my mom gave me when I moved to LA, eight years ago to the day: a cross-stitch hoop embroidered with the lyric, “My heart cried out for you, California.” Photo of more downed branches in the front yard. Better photo of the branches. Photo from the 101 South of the orange-and-ash sky. Photo of the sun piercing through smoke. Screenshot of someone’s grim tarot card spread. Photo of San Diego. Photo of San Diego. Screenshot of Johnny’s update. Screenshot of someone sharing Jean Smart’s call to cancel the Oscars.
Jan 10
Screenshot of Johnny’s update. Screenshot of our renters’ insurance info. Screenshot of a relevant podcast recommendation from Eliza: “Genie Chance and the Great Alaska Earthquake.” Screenshot of someone sharing Ramona Singer’s tone-deaf reaction to the fires. Photo of Sara trying on a bridesmaid dress. Screenshot of the GoFundMe for a middle school’s destroyed theater. Photo of San Diego. Screenshot of a request for volunteers. Screenshot of a friend’s coworker’s GoFundMe. Photo of San Diego. Photo of San Diego. Photo of San Diego. Screenshot of a GoFundMe. Screenshot of a volunteer request. Screenshot of a GoFundMe. Screenshot of a friend’s testimonial from volunteering. Screenshot of a post about the history of Altadena. Screenshot of a fund to help support immigrant workers impacted by the fires.
JAN 11
Photo of Kyle’s list of our options. Selfie with Sara and Kyle to send to the high school group chat. Screenshot of a long post about the kind of community that can form after a disaster. Screenshot of someone’s offer to draw free portraits of people’s lost homes. Screenshot of someone popping off about companies expecting their employees to carry on during a natural disaster. Screenshot of the RHOBH fire map. Screenshot of a fundraiser. Screenshot of Sutton Stracke evacuating to Kyle Richards’ house.
JAN 12
Nothing.
JAN 13
Screenshot of someone explaining how AQI doesn’t measure for pollutants like asbestos or lead. Screenshot of a post about the dangerous air quality. Screenshot of another post about the dangerous air quality. Screenshot of the air purifier The Strategist recommends.
JAN 14
Photo of trees in Redmond, Washington.
We were never in an evacuation zone, but Kyle and I decided to play it safe and get out of town for a while. There was a moment that first Wednesday night when the map showed fires to the north, south, east, and west of Burbank; leaving felt weird and potentially paranoid, but staying felt worse, so we left. First to San Diego to stay with my friend Sara for a few days, then up to Kyle’s parents’ house in Washington for a week. We reasoned that even if we didn’t need to leave the state, a break from smoky air and constant vigilance would do us good. Now we’re back, and I’m on edge again.
I can’t fathom the scope of what’s happened. 10,000+ homes destroyed. Exponentially more Angelenos displaced, out of work, breathing in toxins. Incarcerated firefighters making less than $10 a day fighting what’s been called the worst natural disaster in US history — and it’s not even “fire season.” It seems like the bad news knows no end; even the promise of rain this weekend is loaded with the threat of mudslides and toxic runoff.
What’s going to happen to our traumatized city?
I like to say that LA is a bad place to visit and a great place to live. The true pleasure comes from extended time here, from the lifestyle gradually becoming your life. It’s waking up 100 days in a row to a David Hockney spectacle out your window. It’s crossing paths with a celebrity whose picture you once had pinned to your wall and not batting an eye. It’s taking for granted the beaches, the early movie releases, the hammock in the backyard. It’s watching any TV show and recognizing all the stars: Los Feliz as “Paris,” Malibu as “India,” the hockey rink around the corner as “where they filmed that one scene of all the husbands broing out on The Valley.” It’s feeling like part of the entertainment industry even when you’re unemployed — not only because it’s so seamlessly stitched into day-to-day life, but because your next job is just a “can you start tomorrow?” text away. I’ll never forget the first television scene I saw filmed as a college intern: an insert shot of Nathan Fielder typing on a laptop. I stood quietly by the monitor and watched this nothing bit of B-roll, grinning so hard my face hurt. It was thrilling, and I’ve felt that same thrill at some point on every set I’ve worked on. That feeling — of witnessing something special, of getting away with something, of a dream coming true — is probably what I love most about living here.
What else do I love about LA? Off the top of my head: Dodgers Hello Kitty. The Museum of Jurassic Technology. Driving past a friend on the freeway. The jacaranda trees and what Eve Babitz had to say about them. Johnny’s parents’ home in the Palisades, miraculously still standing. This one stretch of the 101 North where it crests into the Valley and I cry if I’m listening to the right song. This Alanis Morissette tweet I think about whenever I leave town:
The people.
Worth reading:
From the L.A. Times: L.A. writers’ 24 favorite literary passages about Los Angeles
A newsletter about the air quality that made me feel informed and not just neurotic and stressed for the first time in weeks
<sob> Come visit soon