The photos in this post were taken with a vintage film camera in or around Los Angeles over the past 10 years.
I took them with a 1965 Nikon F (excluding the pasta photos)
Los Angeles has become a part of me, imbedded itself into my soul and grew me into the person I have become. Leaving feels heavy. It’s hard to say goodbye, to walk away, but I’m ready. I’m excited to take the next step into a new phase of my life even with the feeling of grief I have over leaving the City I’ve been in for so long.
I’ve done more than just live here or even thrive here. LA has been more than just the backdrop to the majority of my life. She is a part of who I am and I love Los Angeles. I will fiercely defend her when outsiders can’t see past the Hollywood Portrayal of a very small side of the city I’m in love with.
I was born in LA, briefly left, making my way back in my late teens behind the wheel of an old Ford Bronco packed with little more than a suitcase.
I know LA, in a way that you can’t if you’ve never lived here. Like outsiders can never really know what it’s like to grow up in your family: it’s flawed and dirty and beautiful and yours. This is LA.
LA has been good to me. She’s seen me fall in love, become broken, find myself, find a love for food, chase my dreams. But I’ve seen her change too.
I’ve watched my friends go from homeless musicians to Grammy winners. I’ve worked with gang members in Compton. I’ve cried with holocaust survivors in Beverly Hills. I’ve smoked cigars on the roof of Chateau Marmont with literal rock stars. I’ve eaten bacon wrapped hot dogs outside The Short Stop and burritos on Sunset at 3 am. I’ve watched the sunrise over an empty beach in the middle of winter. I’ve been trapped inside a broken down car on the 405 at rush hour. I’ve watched the beer scene go from non-existent to thriving. I’ve played Guitar Hero with famous musicians at Sound City Recording Studio. I’ve worked a waitress job for a money launderer. I’ve bartended a party at a crumbling Frank Lloyd Wright house. I’ve stuck the Troubadour VIP sticker on the thigh of my jeans many, many times. I’ve spent the afternoon talking to homeless vets on the streets of Downtown. I’ve gotten lost on the worthless Metro. I taught a homeless kid how to drive a stick shift at 5am in a mall parking lot. I’ve eaten dinner on stage at The Hollywood Bowl. I’ve been an extra in a movie and witness a drive by shooting in the same day. I walked a catwalk in nearly nothing at a low-budget European designers US press show.
The moments haven’t all been pretty, but they haven’t been dull. There is this feeling in LA, that if you find the right place and stand there long enough, the entire world will walk past you. And it’s with a heavy heart that I leave. But I’m taking LA with me. The person I’ve been made into, the food I’ve fallen in love with, the beer that is a part of my story and a part of my life.
This isn’t Goodbye, LA. Not really. I’m moving North, LA, but a part of me will always be your girl.
I’ll tell you more about where I’m going next week, come back and I’ll tell you all about the new city that I’ll be writing The Beeroness from and the great beer they have.
If you’re in Los Angeles, come join me for one last pint at Basin 141 in Montrose, February 19th from 6 to 9PM. I’ll be signing books and the kitchen will be making some of my dishes. The fantastic Eagle Rock Brewery will be there too, taking over all the taps.
Today, lets eat some pasta. With beer from one of my favorite Los Angeles breweries, Angel City, as well as Avocados, which might as well be California’s official State Fruit.
Like The Beeroness on Facebook to follow all the post from my move and into my new city! I might be leaving LA, but The Beeroness is coming with me. I will continue to write, post, cook, eat and drink.