The unapologetic beauty on Los Angeles streets
Strolling down Abbot Kinney Blvd has become a favorite over the years.
Artists need aesthetic principles the way all of us need water or oxygen. Without any guiding principles on aesthetics, the clarity of a perspective doesn’t exist and, well, vision dies. And like any great story, artists need a plot. Most of the time. No plot, no story. No story, and there’s very little chance of relevance and connection with other humans.
Making the connection to a broader story or theme is usually very important to me but rarely executed well. It’s a work in progress. But every time I head to Los Angeles, as I did last week with my family, I gravitate toward documenting something around a distant but desired homeland that’s misunderstood. There’s an underlying story about my appreciation for how outwardly vibrant, sunny, exhibitionist, and luxurious Los Angeles feels to me. Most people knock it; I love it.
Abbot Kinney Blvd in Venice is a catwalk of unleashed confidence similar to the urban runways of New York City but with a California sizzle and the likes you can only get in a place fueled by yearlong sunshine and dreams.
Land of milk and honey, after all.
I often think people are uncomfortable with the type of expressiveness you see here – colorful, tanned, loose but strong, intimidating but intoxicating, slightly gaudy, and consistently liberated. I think a lot of the concentration on a street like Abbot Kinney Bl revolves around fearlessness with vulnerability. For a lot of us, vulnerability is a phobia. While some may say people in Los Angeles are superficial or overindexing to create a facade of confidence, I’d argue that people living in this city, my hometown, believe it’s almost a duty to be expressive, to push the limits of expression, and do it unapologetically.
I keep coming back to this idea of how far I can push whatever I want to be unapologetic about, whether it’s taking 1000 photos of my kids a year or that I’ll never stop eating burgers. Or how my love for comfortable hotels is just who I am and that you might find my behavior to document random people on random streets a little weird, but intriguing. I’m not sorry about being enamored by other humans and the way they carry themselves or how their likeness might blend into their surroundings.
I spent a long time in my youth dealing with insecurity and fear, the idea of doing anything unapologetically was nowhere in my calculations of living. When I was younger, I invested more time in things that were stopping me from being something – too poor, too unoriginal, too brown – to fully dive into an interest. Most people call that impostor syndrome, but I don’t think that was quite right for me because I didn’t even understand what I was trying to be an imposter of. Now, I know the identity I’m trying to strengthen, the lifelong trajectory I’m calibrating every day. Humans are complicated; what I capture here isn’t a linear beauty. There is calmness and pain; there is jubilation and contemplation. But it all feels so alive on this one, highly sought-after street.
Saying Goodbye
Our family lost a very special person this week. My father-in-law, David York, passed away this week. He was almost 82. My wife has spent the last year documenting a bit about her parents’ struggles with health, writing about caregiving at large, and the intensity of navigating raising children while also supporting aging and ill parents. Needless to say, while his passing was sudden, his memory will live on with us and through us. We have fond memories of a very accomplished, kind, and joyous human. His memory is our blessing.
Thanks for reading. Let Tommy James & The Shondells brighten up your day.
Crystal Blue Persuasion is one of my all-time favorites. And it’s so LA. Have we talked about this before?
Every time I’m driving around West LA, I think to myself, how is it that the most beautiful people in the world choose to live in one of the ugliest places? The concrete, traffic, strip malls, the lack of trees. It’s like Toluca, except that everyone looks like a model. Maybe beautiful people look more beautiful with an ugly background?
I love LA’s personality. It’s enthusiastic, funny, and a little naughty. When I’d visit from Seattle or even San Francisco, it was like when Dorothy went from drab, sepia-toned Kansas to technicolor Oz. I’d land at LAX and think, Damn LA, you so vain and narcissistic… but you’re also fun.