dumped update
Oh, this is the limit. I'm driving into work today—all tralala—and when I turn onto the street where I park my car I hit a minor traffic jam. The reason for the backup? The street is blocked by a garbage truck, idling while workmen load into its eager maw the household refuse cited in my "dumped" entry of 1/24: you know, the peed-upon pile of crap that made me feel slightly more fortunate than the disenfranchised Hollywood apartment dwellers who lived in its fetid shadow.
"Stop!" I want to scream, running toward the truck. "You don't understand—it's an art installation!"
Our own flotsam? Oh, yeah, it's still there, now augmented by a stray shopping cart from the local Vallarta Latin supermarket.
"Stop!" I want to scream, running toward the truck. "You don't understand—it's an art installation!"
Our own flotsam? Oh, yeah, it's still there, now augmented by a stray shopping cart from the local Vallarta Latin supermarket.
posted by Teresa | 12:37 PM
2 Comments:
Nothing about our local Vallarta has any artistic feeling to me. I wonder if the tourism factor is at work in the tear down. That's not what your average tourist to Hollywood expects. They expect Harrison Ford standing in fron of the Chinese theater. Since HF isn't there and the scary ass Elmo is, managing the trash may be all the powers that be can do.
Perhaps you need to reinvent your corner as an open-air gallery, the Rincon de Basura (or Rincon de Mierda if you're going for the hipper, edgier crowds). Post notices about your latest installation at arty Silverlake coffee houses, put out some Charles Shaw and canapés and see who shows up!
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