To move to L.A., start with the clothing. Dresses, black and otherwise. The hat you might wear to Burning Man. The vintage Chinese dress your stepmother wore to a wedding a decade ago. Sweaters. Swimsuits. Underwear. Find the bookshelves, collapsible. Sheets. Towels. The books you can’t live without, the cords that connect your devices one to another. To move to L.A. check the weather, ensure the roads are done icing for the week. Wait for a phone call, share another dinner out. To move to L.A. burrow deep into the room that has been yours for almost half your life and see what’s there. See what’s needed. See what’s not.
January 13, 2015