Los Angeles

As we roll off the PCH into Santa Monica’s prominade there is only one thought on the Hobo’s mind: shower. 2 days is the limit I’ve found. I guess I don’t make a very good hobo in actuality. Especially when you consider the homeless in Venice. The gather en masse, in masses along Venice Beach after hours. It’s impressive the order they seem to govern themselves with when you absorb the sheer numbers of people sleeping there. I’m sure it’s an interesting place to spend time.

The form the human body takes when it is driving and also when working on the computer is quite restricting. Add stress to those activities and there is potential for a load of damage. In my case it screws with my temperament. My skin, the blessed curse of it’s hyperactivity, is a beautiful indicator that I have reached my limit of gas station food and angry thoughts.

What better way to return to SM than with a hot yoga class, followed by an epic shower. The yoga doesn’t stop there. It’s all I want to do here, followed by eating super foods and cooking meals that just can’t be bought.

It’s easy to resent Los Angeles. Everyone loves to profile it as a place of shallow, judgmental people ruining the world with bad movies. It’s actually a cop-out to leave it at that, and I find it’s a viewpoint that’s more a reflection of ourselves than of the city.

For me it has become a haven of sorts. Gradually I find myself gaining strength here. My cravings and urges are healthy and productive. My

work ethic is constructive and my lifestyle filled with more and more joy. It helps that I don’t have the social environment Vancouver stews with, or the history Victoria is stained with. It also helps that the dating world here is not even worth bothering with. Without anyone to distract me unless requested to, I am the architect of a new life here.

It helps to also have enough friendships that I can find myself with the odd place to recharge the 3 things a Hobo Producer really needs: Shower, Power, and Wifi (not necessarily in that order) I also managed to accidentally get invited to a couple of amazing Hollywood parties where I got to be the exotic Canadian not-on-the-hustle who entertains with a silly accent that makes people giggle. The best of all worlds.

As I’ve almost come to the end of my current list of pressing needs, it’s time to carry on. The plan unfolds in many directions at once and I hope my choices are sound.