one of the few things i know i'll miss about los angeles is the farmers market on fairfax and third. it is one of the rare places in LA that feels authentic to me, unchanged with the exception of the old chinese man who used to sell roasted chestnuts in red paper bags--he's been gone for years now. i've visited the farmers market a lot lately, and being there already makes me feel wistful, even though we haven't left the city yet.
it is difficult to determine the genesis of your feelings about things, to get underneath them and discover their source. i mention this because of my premature sadness about this place, but also in light of something i saw there today--i saw an old lady buying a coke. i saw her buying a coke and i realized how much it delights and comforts me to see the elderly buying coke and drinking it.
but then i thought, what is that? where does that come from? what's at the root of it--my feelings about old people, my feelings about coke? maybe this line of questioning is ridiculous, but then again what if it isn't?
the only feelings i know for sure come from movies that make me cry, songs that make me dance, and people that make me laugh. other than that, i have no idea.
koro koro koro. chestnuts rolling down the hill.
koro koro koro
