Los Angeles is a city looking for a ritual to join its fragments, and The Doors are looking for such a ritual also. A kind of electric wedding. We hide ourselves in the music to reveal ourselves. – Jim Morrison
Los Angeles is seventy-two suburbs in search of a city. – Dorothy Parker
I hate cancer. Hate it more than words can describe. Perhaps only four letter ones suffice.
After I shared the cards in honor of Alex around LA, and Eden and Vee hung his art to the theme of Mission Impossible in Sydney, we received emails and comments from around the world. From those touched by what we did, those touched by his work, those touched by cancer.
I am so honored to have been asked to join in a bit of guerilla art. Even if I couldn’t play Banksy for a day, I was so happy to make the cards. To help share his beautiful work.
I’ve never feared public speaking or talking to strangers but handing out the cards was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
I’m a fourth generation Angeleno. I love this town, I do. But it’s a pretty disconnected place sometimes.
I remember as a little girl when I’d visit other cities, other countries, I realized that not every city placed five-foot cinder block walls between residential property. That people really knew their neighbors. The people that you meet when you’re walking down the street weren’t just on Sesame Street – if only you walk down the street. But nobody walks in L.A.
Handing out cards with Alex’s vibrantly-hued artwork, I was lucky if one in six people gave me the time of day. Some truly tested my faith in humanity. And then, others restored it.
Including three different patrolmen, one in plainclothes, the other two uniformed, who stopped at various time to arrest me see what I was up to. Each smiled when I told them. Wished me a good day.
I was stopped by a man offering me a card. He was an evangelical minister. I took it respectfully and gave him one of mine. I may not share his faith, but we were both out there spreading love and compassion in different ways.
Some people looked at me and smiled, commenting on the art, the project. A few people thanked me. And I thanked them. It was a mutual appreciation society.
I gave the cards to locals, to tourists, to one Oscar and Tony Award-winning actress.
Alex, sir, your work has gone Hollywood A-List.
At one point my mother joined me in handing out cards. (Quick thank you my family, who helped me get the cards circulating around this giant little trafficky city of 72 suburbs – I couldn’t have done it without you.) I watched as my mother gave them to a man and a woman who took them with great interest. They walked away smiling. Discussing the cards. Discussing Alex. He was in the air all around us.
I emailed with Eden as I headed to the car. The sun was setting on Friday in Los Angeles. She wrote back in the midst of a busy Saturday in Sydney. (The whole opposite hemisphere thing is crazy. She lives in Tomorrowland.)
I had been humbled by the day.
I was swimming in gratitude.
I had seen the angels in this city. xo a.
(I imagine that today, tucked into the corner of a frame, on a fridge, tacked to a corkboard, Alex’s art is bringing a bit of beauty to someone’s world. THINK BIG as the piece says. THINK BIG.)