The Flyaway bus from LAX deposits one at Union Station (it being a Sunday, "when the Flyaway bus eventually comes, it deposits one ..."). Although I usually then know that I'm home - or more or less home; this is where Alice comes and picks me up - because of the palm trees, the big cubes of light (seen reflected here) which mock the blocks of ice that I left behind in Chicago, and the temperature which makes my large coat suddenly redundant - it's in part this huge mural inside the station that makes me feel that This Is Los Angeles. Painted by Richard Wyatt in 1996, what I like about it is that it's so LA specific - Native Americans; Spanish settlers; settlers from the Pacific Rim ... for all my initial cab driver in Chicago praised that city's multiculturalism (he was from Tunisia; didn't care for the cold), I didn't see anything that celebrated it, visually, in quite such a proud and spectacular fashion.
No comments:
Post a Comment