Another beautiful detour, just the other day. My friend Brad and I went Downtown to go see an art show at the Convention Center, but it happened to be on a Sunday when there was a Lakers' game so that whole area was bustling like Downtown only bustles when there's a Lakers' game. We drove around for a while trying to decide if we wanted to see the art show that much, to brave the mayhem and pay $30 to park, and came to the conclusion that we did not. More than that, we decided we could find something just as fun to do on that clear winter day in a different Downtown area. So it was decided. We were off to explore with no particular plan or destination. And I think we both felt relieved with that verdict.
As it turns out, Brad had heard of this park that was recently built and we had really been wanting to check it out. It was supposedly constructed to be like the Central Park of Downtown LA to accommodate, I suppose, the burgeoning, ever so slowly, I might add, populace of successful artsy sorts. So we got Siri on the mission, circling around looking for Grand Park.
Once located, we parked near Grand Central Market. We popped in there for a minute, just so I could show it to Brad. I've always been fond of that bizarre bazaar. That's another place I hear rumor is going to be getting a multimillion dollar makeover, which, on the one hand, I'm sure I'll love. On the other, I've always found a certain appeal and charm in how grubby and strange that place is. So, I imagine, where once you could get a bottle of tequila, a cheap plastic toy and a slab of beef tongue, you'll be able to get a microbrew and a yoga mat.
Anyway, after that short stop at one of my favorite little downtown treasures, we walked over to see what that park was all about. Hm. Um. Well.
First, I think I need to look up the definition of park, maybe. I mean, it's possibly the weirdest park in the world. It takes up four blocks and is mostly patches of grass in concrete, nary a tree to be seen, and a bunch of fuchsia benches, metal benches, not even wooden, and a fountain. It was just about the furthest thing from nature that I could imagine. It might actually be what I would imagine if someone asked me to imagine the furthest thing from nature. I'm still kind of registering that place. Maybe it's not done. That's what I'm hoping. Because Grand it was not.
But, as we stood there in that peculiar desolation, the clouds and the light and the world were all so perfect that it hardly mattered. Looking up, we found our nature. The sky was incredible that day. It really was. Bright and serene with abnormally puffy clouds perched just so over the Civic Center. And the park was empty, all four blocks of it, and it was quite peaceful then.
After that, we decided to see how much ticket prices were at the MOCA. We walked over there and up to the ticket booth and for some reason it was free that day so we got to go in and look at all of this modern art that I don't understand (yet? ever?) and it was all really quite beautiful, in its strange way. The MOCA suddenly being free. We got our art show after all. And we whispered a lot. And giggled. But every so often, we stopped and were silent. So, there's always something that gets you.