Just Enough For The City
Looking out the third story bedroom window of a yellow and grey Dutch Colonial house I now share with my dear friend from Rome I call Dolcezza – I realize I have come full circle. I haven’t lived in a city since I was a child living by The Bluffs of Pittsburgh’s Hill District. I have been a country girl for years. Yeah, West Hollywood doesn’t count. Los Angeles is an extended bedroom community with a freeway running through it. YES, Marcello Mastroianni and I have moved once more.
There is this feeling floating in the wind. A keeper of promises hanging in the cold silver air – like fruit the day before it fully ripens into love and sweetness. A knowing in a place so still even my heart doesn’t quite understand what it is saying yet.
I stand here looking at a landscape unfamiliar to me. Smokestacks, train tracks, roof tops, expensive sneeks hanging from cable lines. Cobblestone streets and old American made cars in dire need of repair. I feel as self-conscious as dyed red-hair. But when I awaken in the morning there is pale lemon kissed light shining through my window. And at night the the sky is lit up like a gaudy Christmas Tree with every color Crayola’s 120 crayon box has to offer.
Some seriously iniquitous deeds have been conjured here. I can just smell it. But I don’t care. I don’t plan to stay long.
Something in its very strangeness is familiar to me. So, I kinda dig it.
Look, this place is no three chord cute and kissy country song.
Nope, this place is noisome and has a voice thick with honey, Seagrams, and tears.
This place is JAZZ.
It’s about time the prodigal daughter came home… for a minute.
♥ For all those in The Friday’s Child Circle Of Prayer and for all those in need. We send… Love, Light and Oceans of Bliss for the Highest Good of All. And so it is.
Have a sweet one!