For reasons unknown, it is as foggy as San Francisco this morning, with moisture in the air that pelts you as walk. The East Coast folk are lovin' in, I'm sure--those that weren't expecting brilliant Southern California sunshine. Perfect weather for a hike in Sutro Park or by Land's End to see how much of the Golden Gate bridge is visible... if one were in San Francisco. However, it's a little disconcerting for Los Angeles.
As if that one experience with that poor kid who had gone out wasn't bad enough, last night at the meeting my sponsor confirmed that someone we had both known some time ago had long since died. I guess I always wanted to believe that he was out there, somewhere; that there was some chance I'd happen upon him in a meeting someday. The other kid who was a newcomer at the same time as the guy I ran into last week was at the meeting this morning. He's been clean and sober since he got in the program. So there are those who make it. I just don't have the ability to be able to bestow that gift on anyone; I'm but another mortal in the program.
...and not being God, I'm supposed to remember, takes a lot of responsibility off of my shoulders.
So maybe it will be a good day to work on my New Orleans sketches; and perhaps take the moleskin notebook out around the city to take advantage of the atmosphere. It isn't often, after all, that L.A. has air that looks like the sky in Atget's photographs of the Parc Monceau.
As if that one experience with that poor kid who had gone out wasn't bad enough, last night at the meeting my sponsor confirmed that someone we had both known some time ago had long since died. I guess I always wanted to believe that he was out there, somewhere; that there was some chance I'd happen upon him in a meeting someday. The other kid who was a newcomer at the same time as the guy I ran into last week was at the meeting this morning. He's been clean and sober since he got in the program. So there are those who make it. I just don't have the ability to be able to bestow that gift on anyone; I'm but another mortal in the program.
...and not being God, I'm supposed to remember, takes a lot of responsibility off of my shoulders.
So maybe it will be a good day to work on my New Orleans sketches; and perhaps take the moleskin notebook out around the city to take advantage of the atmosphere. It isn't often, after all, that L.A. has air that looks like the sky in Atget's photographs of the Parc Monceau.
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