10 Months Later

I was just reminded that this blog exists. Somebody quoted from it in the description of a facebook event. I didn't recognize the passage, but it was credited to Mateo's Blog, so I searched around a bit and it was indeed mine. I haven't written here since New Year's Day of this year, and though it seems like a wasted effort to write something new for an abandoned and most likely unread blog, the spirit is moving me, and I know better than to fight her. 

The event that I was quoted in is a party at my (ware)house, the Casa de Angelopes in Inglewood, California. The reason for the party is to mark the end of an era. The Casa is CLOSED. After two or three years of chaos, creation, destruction, and noise, the neighbors finally managed to figure out how to get us removed from this delightful little compound at the intersection of West and Hyde Park. Given that, I find it fitting that my last entry here was about feeling at home here in Inglewood. 

Now, however, I am about to be homeless. More or less by my own choice. I don't want to live in a collective anymore. However, I am also jobless with very little money saved. I plan to put most of my things in storage and live out of my van, which will be parked in the Echo Park / Silver Lake area. That is where the rest of my house-mates are moving, and that is where most of my business is these days, on account of the fact that I am the newest member of the very busy Manhattan Murder Mystery. I found out that the Casa was Over while on tour with MMM. I had been seriously contemplating moving out, anyway, so I was almost glad to be pushed out. 

I am deeply saddened, however, that this giant tin shack is about to have its heart ripped out. From the first moment I stepped in here, I felt as if I was in a giant living work of art. Everywhere you look, there is something brilliant to behold. (It feels like I'm going in the direction of a full-on text description of this place, and I know I don't have the time to carry out that monumental task. I am also suspicious that I don't have the skill, so I'll leave the subject with this: As sad as it is, it seems almost right for it to have to die. This thing burned far too bright to last very long.)