Smoke, Flames, and the Unyielding Heart of L.A.
one week in
It’s been one week since the fires began, and I swear it feels like months. I guess when your nervous system gets all jacked up, it messes with the whole time-space continuum, and you can’t tell what’s what and where is when and all of that.
I am safe. I am home. I have a home. I am grateful.
But it is impossible to compute how many friends have lost everything all at once. My heart aches for them. I can’t fathom their despair.
Peter and I spent New Year’s Day in our favorite town, Pacific Palisades. For many years, we have shopped in the markets and taken walks there. We ride our Vespa weekly to the area we hoped to live in one day.
On January 1st, we visited our friends in their beautiful home in the Palisades. One week later, the fire took their home.
An entire neighborhood.
Gone.
With every passing day we heard of more friends who lost everything. Our friends who lost their home in the Altadena fire told us they don’t know if they can afford to build again. There are no words that I know of that can soothe a loss like this. I don’t know what to do. (If any of our friends that we haven’t communicated with yet are reading this, know that you are held in our hearts and have our ears and support in any way we can. We are here to listen if/when you are ready.)
The winds are about to pick up again, and we don’t know what’s next. Where we live in Hollywood is not at the highest threat level, but all of L.A. County is in the red flag zone, and things are crazy dry everywhere.
They arrested people setting fires in West L.A., North Hollywood and the Valley. Did you know that in severe high winds, embers can travel up to 5 miles? That’s a thought I rather not think but here I am thinking it. Worrying about it. And the raining ash, air full of toxins, I worry about the state of everyone’s future lungs. But what good has worry ever brought me?
I think we are safe, but the suitcases are packed.
I feel a little lost and a lotta sad. I know this feeling - it’s grief. But this isn’t just mine. It’s a shared grief, and that makes it... heavier. BUT! There is also a great warmth, a love, an embrace, to know that the majority of us are wishing to ease one another’s pain. We were turned away at one donation drop-off because they had too much. People are showing up to help in a huge way. And this anguish, it will pass. Eventually, it will pass.
I am sharing a few of my friends' GoFundMe pages. Please be aware of fake ones. Only give what you can to people you know and trust.
I’m also including a link to a video I watched of what the Palisades looks like now. (you can find similar videos of the devastation in Altadena as well) A journalist shot the video. (I slowed it down in the settings on YouTube to 0.5 and turned off the sound.) Five minutes in, you’ll start to get a sense. Thirty minutes in you’ll see the area I wrote about. If you feel it will be too painful, please don’t watch. I needed to see.
Los Angeles, I’ve loved you since birth and maybe even before. Ema was sure that I told God that I’d like to be born to her and in Hollywood. God, if you’re still listening, we could really use some rain right about now.
I’ve been
doing a rain dance
in my living room
It’s not appropriation
if I make up the moves
and add a Hebrew prayer
A body roll
A shimmy
A tap
A wave
A jiggle
A wiggle
A pop
A lock
A fan kick
A box step
A two-step
Vogue!
I’m the dancer
I’m the dance
pleading to the ancient
and the new
seeking solace
in movement
finding meaning
in a ritual
(even one I just made up)
I ask God
and/or Mother Nature
and/or The Universe
and/or All The Unknown
please
Sh'lach geshem!
שְׁלַח גֶּשֶׁם!
Send Rain!
Amen.
Jazz hands! 👐🏼
Thank you for your love, concern and check-ins. I love you.
L.A. Strong,
Annie
Please support if you can and/or share the links with others. If you post on social media, please make sure to write that these are friends of your friend and you trust the source.
Deb & Goli
The Wilson Family
Phil Abrahms and Family
Chayse
🙏
We rain dance and pray and wish. We are so sorry for all that is lost.