fallible perfection.

 I went to Los Angeles with my friend Ian and his hardcore band on Friday. It was an awesome experience. The morning began with a discussion between Ian and I regarding Western Europe and North America's obsession with being on time. We talked about how absurd that it was to get angry over someone being a couple of minutes late to work. However, after we were waiting for, Will (the drummer of the band) for two hours we began to respect the importance of punctual.
 Following the delay we went straight to the recording studio, which was located in the heart of East LA. It was just south of the latin kings stomping ground. Just west of where the crips hung out, and in the heart of the Ghetto. This first picture is of the dirty syringe that I found when I entered the bathroom. If my blog had a scratch and sniff app I would put a scratch and sniff sticker that smelt like dirty cheap kush (marijuana).

  After about five minutes of listening to my friends hardcore band I decided that I would risk my life by skate boarding down the streets of East LA. I saw the sights of east LA which consist of graffiti, abandoned warehouses and Homeboy Productions (a bread factory  run by former gang members). Pain and misery are the only things to see in East LA

My skateboard journey's then took me to China town. As a child I thought that this place was really cool. I now know that as a child I spake like a child I acted like a child and I was indeed a child. The place is teeming with angry Asian women, old Vietnam vets, and the pungent smell of peeking duck which permiates throughout the city blocks. In reflection Chinatown is still pretty cool, but I just remember it being so much bigger and better then it really is.

 Within twenty minutes of Chinatown I grew tired of the countless number of shops selling tiny overpriced bamboo gardens, fake bonsai tree's, and the Chinese versions of pinata's so I made my way deeper into the heart of downtown LA. I skated past the Disney music bowl, through the diamond district and onto the garment district where I ran into a used bookstore. The bookstore was filled with the typical people you would find at a bookstore, a couple of old ladies, droves of hipsters, and a couple of young latina girls whose bodies were uncovered and littered with tattoo's and piercings.   

 All in all I loved skating around LA. As cynical and sarcastic I may be regarding the people of Los Angeles, I love them. I could not have imagined a better day as this. I love seeing the fallible individuals of the world. I love viewing them as they are. I believe that they are the truest people. They do not hide under the thin disguise of perfection. These people realize who they are and what their follies may be. It is difficult for me to describe my admiration for them. It is confusing. I respect and love them and as a result I consider them to be perfect because they are perfectly content with their imperfections.