This past Thursday, Nate and I took the metro into downtown LA for the monthly art walk event. Dozens of businesses and stark empty halls transform into colorful displays as dusk approaches.
First, we found our way to the menagerie of food trucks nestled tightly together in vacant parking lots. Now full with colorful doors and windows shaping an eclectic food court we were almost paralyzed by our options: pulled pork, creative wraps, dim sum, fusion tacos. It was a feast for the eyes, ears, and nose for sure.
After our bellies were content from the Lobster Truck and French Fried Chicken Truck, we meandered through the different art galleries. We pondered the meaning of someone taking old scraps and binding them together with glue and paint to make a wonderful art statement. We were also struck by the notion that in a city struggling to redefine itself, we were instantly handed maps to art walk despite the others walking by too. Did we stick out that much?
The sites, sounds, tastes, and feelings made for a night of sensory overload, but there was one picture whose impact has stuck with me.
Linda Alterwitz displayed her work where she took x-rays and laboratory images and fused/superimposed them on photographs of the environment and nature. There were algae that looks like small stars over a pictures of a seaside pier. A canine hip jutted out of the ocean, making it look like angels were descending from the clouds. As people moved dutifully from picture to picture, my eye kept wandering back to one of her pieces.
At a glance it looked like an old photo gone wrong, something to disregard, but if you lingered, something else emerged. It was black and white, simple enough to miss, but wrought with profundity. Its fuzziness either captured someone’s interest or sent them on their way (and I can’t help but think the same it true when we’re dealing with people too). Read More








