Something Found, Something Lost

I am officially an east coaster again.

Earlier today I noticed a marked difference between the two sides of this country in the form of a song.  Coconut Records (Jason Schwartzman's one man group btw) has a song called "West Coast". There is so much popular culture produced -- be it music, movies or folklore -- speaking to the magical power of the left coast. But have you ever tried to find the parity product that represents the east coast? No, you haven't.

Because it doesn't exist.

The east coast has a steady stream of rappers and the occasional rocker that speaks to their habitat. But listen closer- the description usually depicts a struggle -- a hard knock life, if you'll allow me -- that is lived through rather than enjoyed.

So while I've only been right coasting for a week, I can't help but be semi-influenced by the propaganda that exists in popular paradigms. The west coast is, and personally was, a place of perfect groundhog days, filled with sunshine, beachfront and good times.

But don't count the east out of the races. I love the east coast. It made me who I was. It shaped my growth, housed my family and delivered unto me the best friends I've ever had. Had I grown up in LA, I think I'd be less of a person for it. For too many reasons to write, living through the hardships of the east vs. the idilic existence of the west gave me perspective and compassion. I know was it is to hurt. And I equally know what it is to flourish.


Yet being back leaves me listless. It rustles up an assortment of old feelings that have otherwise lain dormant in my four + years of exile. I remember the bittersweet sentiment that coats every memory, both previous and future. I remember old relationships, romantic and other, that defined my understanding of the everyday. And to be honest it's hard. It hurts. The west relieved me of pain. The east promises to remind me of it everywhere.

I don't know.

Life continues. I'm no bigger player in it here as I was previously. But it's a new set of rules. The home team. I've been playing an away game. May the emotions that run so deep here not drown me, that's all I ask.

The Move Homeward

The impending move back east has me anxious. I can't sleep. I can't eat properly. I feel like I'm transgressing through a luke-warm purgatory where I'm neither here nor there. And it's the worst. It's like the first week back at school when the teacher is passing out the syllabus and explaining what you'll be covering and everyones deciding if this is going to be a fun class or if it's just a bunch of shit-pants losers where no spark of excitement will emerge. Fuck that period- just jump right in and teach me about rocks and fauna (drawing from a particularly painful earth science memory).

Yet I'm hopeful. This move is surely a new adventure. But "starting again" in a new city is always a challenge that too gets easier with time.

I miss the life and friends that I've built in California already. Los Angeles has been an amazing experience- one that started shaky, got off to a slow start but hit its stride beautifully, delivering a great neighborhood, fun jobs, exciting times and an amazing group of friends. For one of the first times I felt surrounded by people who had a sincere energy to create, to make, to do. So many smart, driven people. That's not to discount times past but LA delivered something different. It also allowed me to become more comfortable with myself than ever before. I felt at ease in my skin and in new situations. I felt funnier and smarter and happier.

I suppose I hope to carry that feeling across the country, to continue living what can only be considered a dream, a charmed existence.

Many adventures lay ahead, some business-minded that require my dedication and stalwartness and others that include new people, new places, new feelings.

Hell, it's going to be great.