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Sunday, November 27

Pigeon Box Art and Pigeon-Related Art Commissions Around the Greater Los Angeles Area. [Updating: now, with Pigeons and Friends]

An ongoing online exhibition featuring visual odes to the pigeons that I've discovered, or happened upon, as a trekker of many streets and locales in and around the Greater Los Angeles area. 

Box Art is a trending artistic expression form that sprung up, several years ago, as a seemingly ordained vehicle of artists' aspirations for public recognition (I'm not sure of the origins or certifying agency behind the legality of painting on public sidewalk utility server boxes). 

The pigeons, being the endearing young explorers and ambassadors to the town that they are, have merited several works of art dedicated to them over the years, in the lives, works, and hearts of artists and art lovers all across several locales around the Los Angeles region. 


The South Pasadena Metro Station

A tentative pigeon on a Metro station utility box in South Pasadena, CA.

A child kneels and plays, as the pigeon's curious companion on the same utility box.

Los Angeles Trade Tech College Murals
LA Trade Tech College features various murals two of them featuring pigeons.

A pigeon commemorates the city of Los Angeles in this mural.
 
The Martin Luther King Blvd. at Harbor Freeway 110 Underpass Murals.




The Ernst and Young Plaza Poetry Pigeons; Curious Over a Fried Egg - Cast Metal Statue

Santa Monica Pier re-opening welcome banner.


Update: 01/24/2022: 

While out working on some more recent developments, of about a year-and-a-half since I’d last made inclusions and updates to this blog, I’ve come across a previously unknown, or previously non-existent - charming mural rendition of some of the Friends of the Pigeon: a sparrow, and what appears to be perhaps a baby seagull, with a characteristically youthful withdrawn stance, about the bust (breast, neck and head) of the bird, of which would suppose a more socially-shy and unsure fledgling addition to a flock, amongst adults, in a similar manner in which a puppy reserves it’s tail in between its legs, as an ostensible sign of submission to the elders and authorities of the pack, or family unit. This mural is located in the Playa Del Rey area, which is part of the expanse of public works projects that include a nature reserve designation, of sorts, that encompasses the Los Angeles River, which begins, winding further up the road, and around the bend, a bit, feeding in to channels that comprise the Venice Beach Canals (which are an upscale series of channeled waterways that mimic the Classical Canals of Italy’s Venice; thus Venice Beach, CA, is rightly named as, such that it would suppose a proper nod of the hat towards a facet of our Western heritage and culture, here in America; Venice Beach, largely known as a small, yet concentrated locality of the West Coast, in attracting many professionals and patrons of the Los Angeles, CA artistic culture and of progressive minds and lifestyles, and the area is, therefore, rich in diversity, arts, and spirituality. The Ballona Wetlands, as it is known, further up in to this current area, known as Del Rey, bordering on Culver City, in this instance, is a rehabilitated natural and native wetlands plants reserve, where the river flows inland, turning, at some point, several miles up the road from the beach, and winding its way through Los Angeles, as a large concrete ditch, perhaps anywhere from 20-30 feet deep, and, at times, anywhere from 30-75 feet wide, perhaps more, in some cases, as a watershed management development of the larger systems of society and government, and it is rumored that, at some point, the development project is projected to expand the entirety of the lateral expanse of the lower 48 states of America in coming decades.



Somewhere

at the edge of two localities, the river becomes a great wash basin, capable of handling a significant flow of water, perhaps, someday.



Hollywood, CA - YMCA building.


The Hollywood YMCA, in the heart of Hollywood, CA, features an external mural and protective wall (since there’s sometimes small civic uprisings that find their way in to Hollywood, lately, at times [mid-late 2022]) featuring black and white birds, perhaps pigeons, that they could be. 



Sunday, September 25

What it feels like to suffer from agitated Lyme Disease.

Many a boneheaded parasitic critter-enthusiast has pondered the horizons ‘pon blood-drinking | blood-letting of a prized, unwitting victim - 

How does the victim feel? 
What if I abuse the parasites, then set them on him? 
etc. etc. - various other things, portending fantasies upon bloodletting - a psychological un-wellness, that we’d call it, these days, yet many a man (isn’t it usually a man? Or some problem subsequent to abuse that man hath wrought upon a person, and then…?), …

Well, okay. Not many a man, let’s not accommodate grandiosity, here. It’s a slight fetish, of a nominal crowd of people. Most people have never even come across ticks or bedbugs, and I did my best to fertilize the slight areas in town, in which they show up, seasonally, and now what? They’ve shown up in my room, and I’ve got a first-hand account of the trauma associated with this sort of affliction - Lyme Disease, as it were - in this instance, a fairly weak strain, yet potent enough, in how it affects me - to detail the nuances and tribulations it wreaks upon a victim, given that a young lady had recently died, in the news, following a Lyme Disease bout onset. 

First of all, 

It significantly upsets expectations. Not only is sleep disturbed, with the affliction, with external itching being the prominent feature of the bugs’ (or arachnids’, rather) bites - timespan expectations for healing of standard, daily athletic wear and tear on the body feels inexplicably hapless, and we feel useless - the sufferers of a bout of Lyme Disease, that it “may” be - it’s worse, without humic and fulvic ionic mineral supplementation. But still - even itching, in and of itself, is cruelty enough - there’s some phases of sleep that really just bum a person out, to be woken up out of. 

Granted - with experience, one learns the (supposedly) simple cure for the external suffering - a pumice stone, or lava rock - to abrade and scrape the irritated spot. But even then, repeated abuses hurt - it’s an abuse of a person’s morale, their well-being, their trust of individuals - especially once they come to understand that it wasn’t simple filth, and dirtiness - that caused the onset of bedbugs or ticks having appeared, in to one’s life - it was a secret malingerer, someone who just can’t stand something about the targeted victim, and the parasites are a viable mechanism for communicating and transmitting, reliably, and effectively - some form of the desired slight tortures that these critters inflict upon an individual. 

Personally, 

I’ve experienced, this time around, a significant depression, over the matter. I’ve found that, being bit in some places, ostensibly, the venom gets directed, unfettered, in to the bloodstream, and the sedating, irritating, and depressing features of the bites become part of the body’s whole. Now, for certain, I’ve written on Lyme Disease, previously, but it’s a subject worth an update, perennially, although, as I’ve said, I thought that I personally attended to the problem from forming, out in public. Bed bugs, which the current problem happens to be, happens to only show up in places such as seedy motels - I wasn’t quite expecting this type of thing to have shown up in my new group home setting - particularly not as an acute and chronic problem.

Anyways, be sure to check Amazon and Google for cheap humic and fulvic ionic minerals, or zeolite minerals, for external application and for relief - the stuff works. Permethrin can also be applied, and it can be had via perscription - it’s definitely an emergency room type of situation, should a parasitic affliction find you. 

Tuesday, September 20

(You) would rather labor than die, or go to jail, or prison. (Updating)

Perhaps a crude interpretation, as it comes out, 

although it was a thought (suggestion, perhaps) that had passed through my mind, over the p1st day. Here is some biblical background reference on the subject.

A street side Skid Row Friday evening Christian service.


Faith and Deeds

James 2, 14-26

14 What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? 15 Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. 16 If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? 17 In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.

18 But someone will say, “You have faith; I have deeds.”

Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds. 19 You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder.

20 You foolish person, do you want evidence that faith without deeds is useless[a]21 Was not our father Abraham considered righteous for what he did when he offered his son Isaac on the altar?22 You see that his faith and his actions were working together, and his faith was made complete by what he did. 23 And the scripture was fulfilled that says, “Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness,”[b] and he was called God’s friend. 24 You see that a person is considered righteous by what they do and not by faith alone.

25 In the same way, was not even Rahab the prostitute considered righteous for what she did when she gave lodging to the spies and sent them off in a different direction? 26 As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without deeds is dead.


At other points in time, even alike, within the New Testament Book of James, which [New Testament (sic)], is generally accepted as the standard by which we, as Christian Americans (at least, of my upbringing), adopt, as the basis in our concepts of theology and spirituality, there are contradictory statements and claims, such as in this example, from Ephesians 2, 8-9. Ephesus was a Roman town in which Paul, one of Jesus’ disciples, had been jailed after Jesus Christ’s death on the cross. 

From Saint Paul:

Paul is venerated as a saint in the Roman CatholicEastern Orthodox, Lutheran and Anglican churches. Nearly all Christians accept his teachings as the core of Christian doctrine. As a missionary who braved many obstacles, who faced imprisonment and death for the sake of his faith in Jesus Christ, he remains a model of dedication, zeal, faithfulness and piety.

From Patheos.com:

Who were the Ephesians?

The Ephesians were the residents of Ephesus to which Paul visited and wrote the Book of Ephesians too in the form of a letter to the church (while in prison in Rome).

Here are some notes pertaining to James’ stance on the doctrine of Jesus Christ, from the New World Encyclopedia:

Because it appears to contradict the doctrine of the Apostle Paul—that salvation comes by faith and not works—the epistle has caused considerable controversy. 


Ephesians 2 8-9

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast.For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast.

Upon having this verse having been ingrained in to my mind, since childhood, since it was a popular hymn, at various church services I had attended, I consider that, on one hand, words are simply words, yet the semiotic and critical theory interpretation of what sort of depth the meaning of some words has, for the sake of words’ import, and for the fact of that many things that transpire, through words that are spoken - are sometimes found to be thoughtless and impulsive acts, and that, at other times, people let out a Freudian Slip - the subconscious mind, superseding shame and guilt, in essence, by speaking out in defense of themselves, just imaginably - yet ostensibly, upon interpretation, become signals that suggest that some other, concealed motive is the truth of the subject’s intention.

Sure, keeping a coherent mind about things of a biblical nature is challenging; my experience is that people had been losing a sense of keeping track of even simple conversational topics around me. These days, we have other signifiers of validation in intelligence, such as whether the logic is fallible, or not. I would assert that a personal bias fallacy would presume that people would rather keep faith than perform good, or proper, perhaps - deeds, since a notion such as stating faith has much less of an energy draw, and it is a less humble act, in many cases. Things that are challenging require humility and discipline, at times, particularly in the face of others who disdain law and order in society, of which our Christian faith is a fundamental underlying basis, thereof, here in America. What is the truth of Roman society in the centuries following Christ’s death? 

As for myself, this notion is fairly a blank spot in my mind, since I slept through world history, back in high school. I’ll have to look in to the matter, of a more dedicated basis, at some point, although I would say that the adoption and acceptance of Christianity - how much, how little, or if it was a concept that was opposed, per se - in the centuries following Christ’s death in the Roman Empire, would be the case in point to discern. On one hand, I recall such things as that the Romans had worshipped deities and idols, such as Artemis, which is known, in the botanical world, following Carl Linnaeus, in terms of the wormwood plant, or Artemesia Absithium, which had later been implemented in the French liqueur, known as Absinthe, could have been both a plant used for intoxication, as well as for poisoning sacrificial victims - a test of military devotion, perhaps - perhaps a fool’s game, to have sacrificed one’s other, rather than to have given one’s own self, as a demonstration of dedication and loyalty to the military, as may have been seen in military games, such that the Romans have come to be known for, for their coliseum, etc., otherwise. 

So, in some cases, to consider, people would rather perform lip service, rather than do the labors that constitute the merit in Christ’s teachings. On one hand, it’s foolish to flout that poor work ethics are part of one’s ethical constitution in life, especially when the prospect of dying, punishment, or imprisonment are at issue. In another concept to consider, fairly no one, much, speaks to me, and, as it was stated above, it had become the case of that most Christians, at this point in time, 2022 A.D., adopt the style of Christianity that Paul had documented, in his writings - yet, was it even a truthful statement, or was it simply a case of dyslexia? The thought, in and of itself, was a jumbled thing in my mind, yet the preacher at the service I had just attended, earlier this evening, was the prescient impetus to rediscovering this case in point, for the fact of that he was more well-versed in the Holy Bible than I’ve been. I have read the Holy Bible completely through, at one point, but it was a fairly quick read, and it’s generally said that any and every Christian ought to read the Bible in its entirety. Even so, with that being the case, I found it beneficial to attend this church service - particularly because they had provided a porta-potty, outside of work hours, and I had to use the restroom, and restroom service in Skid Row is generally a work-hours sort of accommodation, not an all-day and all-night sort of thing. It would have been poor form of me, if I were to abandon sitting in on the service, essentially, and it was an important Christian lesson to revisit, for me. 

 Words are just words, in essence - if somebody else says the same thing as one person, it could mean something significantly different, it could mean less than the original statement, which is oftentimes the case, since matching a particular novel moment of emotive and intent, vocally, is a expert thing to achieve at, and an easy thing to fail at, even if it’s just a most slight difference. Some people don’t really care, and they tolerate poorer behaviors amongst their peers, friends, relations, family, etc. We have to consider that progress is expected to have been made, since ancient times, and yet, we keep some things, and improve upon other things, when statistically faulty things have become standard practice.

Why did I mention this jail, prison, or death thing? It was a statement I had “overheard,” perhaps I’d call it “reverentially,” as though the person speaking it had intended to reach others, while I was an observer upon this remote sensing calamity that was breaking out. Obviously, we cannot live a life that does not value Christian labors - the type that support life and society. How could anything of our lives have ever existed, up to this point in time, if labors had not been the foundation of life - how could we remain valuable if labors are abandoned, ever? That’s essentially how I take things, as far as how I was raised, for example. I find many people’s behaviors and attitudes to be significantly strange, at times. 

Update: 9:02 a.m., Sept. 5th, 2022 - some evidence of the nuclear war having reached Los Angeles.

A photo demonstrating that two separate luminant portions of the sky are seen, one of them the sun, and another, only explicable, I would say, by the presence of significant radiation, closer to the ground, from the direction behind the trees to the right, whereas similar portions of the sky, to the lower left, are not lit as brightly.


Just prior to this incident, I received communications suggesting that my former school peers, specifically Solomon Leyva, Brian Michaud, Chris and Vincent Mejia, and perhaps others, were making confessions towards me for the fact of that they, amongst perhaps unknown others, had robbed my parents of all of their belongings for the month, and that they were trying to deceive me, by terrorizing my psychological well-being, by “telling me” that they had been burned by nuclear radiation, as well as my mother. There were inconsistencies in their story, such as that Solomon Leyva was claimed to have suffered nuclear radiation burns on his feet, and that he couldn’t tolerate his life, whereas he spoke freely and comfortably, it appeared, just minutes later. Vincent Mejia spoke to me, in a disguised voice, and he tried to convince me that I had been determined to have been registered on the sex offender registry, for sounding myself in public, the night prior. 

Some further evidence of heavy radiation is seen in this bug that had shown up on my blanket last night, which no longer lives. Notice the hard shell of the creature. The insect, upon attempting to touch it, seemed to give off a slight hot, radiant burn.

Some follow-up to the morning’s seeming detonation, off in the distance: a long and flowing dark stream of clouds had developed.




September 7th, 2022: 4:35 p.m. - Two days later, a dark, murky cloud still expands outward, from the direction of the initial flash of light.


September 8th, 2022, 6:16 a.m. - clouds as dark as ink, nearly, blot out the sky, at the break of dawn. I decided to get out of town, since the clouds seem to correlate with me getting a headache, if the sun gets behind them, with me on the other end, on the ground. It’s too elaborate a thing to have to burden, for the sake of personal wellness at stake. It’ll be a nice little vacation for me. 



On the way up north, the outlook of the sky looks clearer. Hopefully it keeps up! 



The trees of Culver City - an extension of the Downtown Los Angeles greening, shading, and urban agriculture initiatives.

The newly-planted trees of 2022 in Greater Los Angeles - a civic platform, perhaps implied as a measure of achievement and merit, for those who choose to water and feed the trees. This tree, by comparison, is a well-established tree of Culver City, although I’ve spotted some newly-planted young trees in this area, just up the road. The night’s work involves establishing the workflow and rhetoric of how, where, why, etc., as far as getting a row, a block, or more, perhaps, of these young trees - well-enough watered, all of them, and with nutrients, to boot. The trees of Culver City are a lush, rich feature to this part of town, and it’s a central feature to much of the town’s transient appeal (I haven’t lived here long-term, so far).

The greenery in Culver City, a major entertainment industry production studio hub, and juncture to many major inlets in to the Los Angeles Westside and Southbay cities, such as Dockweiller Beach, Inglewood, Century City, and Playa Vista, is a rich testament to the city’s cultural wealth and heritage, as well as that the city is home to the Ballona Wetlands, a development upon the the Los Angeles River and watershed program, which aims to bring native wetland plants, wildlife habitats, and freshwater resources in to a developing stretch of land, which begins at the juncture of Marina Del Rey and Venice Beach - Culver City stretches out nearby that intersection of cities and localities, and it is a vast, sprawling cityscape, rich with many large trees, yet I encounter it, on this day, (Tuesday, September 20th, 2022), with yet even more newly-planted young trees, as yet another locality set with a challenge that I’d taken upon myself (documented on my Twitter account), as one of iPigeon.institute’s dedicated challenges to uphold, as part of my merit system umbrella of achievements and benchmarks for aptitude and upkeep of the localities I’ve frequented over the years, and to demonstrate the extended outlook and expanding eyes’ breadth of development potential, built upon pigeon feeding, as the formative attraction, which could assist in sifting some tourist attentions around, bringing tourists in, for a new and novel purpose, for that matter, and making use of more of the sprawl of greater Los Angeles, that it were, per se, as newly developed localities have emerged, for one thing, since I’d regularly traveled through greater Los Angeles, by vehicle, which was largely over 10 years ago, at this point, more or less - this being the case, I did travel to many, perhaps nearly mostly all of the major localities of greater Los Angeles, and I could stand in, as a suitable Google Local Guide, on that note, at least, in written form, and in photographic captures of the lands, and their suitable accommodations and peculiarities that would intrigue tourists, for one thing. On one hand, it appears to be an economy that persists, despite that “locals” become fraught with localized dramas; myself included, if I hang out in one place for too long. 

Despite all things, I don’t particularly witness that Los Angeles ever really seems to just “give up” and claim that the city “doesn’t work” anymore - it’s pretty amazing, how resilient the infrastructure is, and, generally, how seamless repairs get done, in this town. If anything, these types of ephemeral, or “otherwise,” alternate-entity sorts of establishments - they have their own timetables and localized boundaries, and here, I’m seeking to be diverse and robust in pigeon-flock establishments, which are both well-maintained, reasonably friendly, and perhaps, over time, impart some sort of specialized localized fare about them, such as Culver City could be a starting point, in working on, and perhaps closer over towards the bluffs over Jefferson, which is a nice thoroughfare of development (it’s a more well-grounded Silicon Beach town - [Playa del Rey] than Venice Beach seems to have ended up being, at least over the past couple of years, in which I’d not really visited that part of town, for the sake of poor news reports about the place, and I’d had enough troubles of people following me, well enough, such that I didn’t care to risk getting more unknowns tailing me, with some sort of insider knowledge about me, or something like that - it’s unsettling, to be sure). 

Now, though, I’ve got a novel nightlife dolly bag (rolling luggage) flair, about myself, though. 

On top of the flashing LED light setup, this dolly cart is made of steel, I believe, rather than cheaper metals that common tote carts are made of. I also outfitted this one with rollerblade wheels, so I can do my watering work, by night, and not disturb people. They’re really zippy, and I can even jog with the dolly cart.

In any case, the tree-watering initiative thing (I can reference some credited sources, once I get to going over my reading and searches), is a somewhat obscure, largely unspoken “thing” - at least, when I’m around, sort of thing - on one hand, people in positions of authority have trouble really encouraging people to do that sort of thing, to begin with, on account of the rioting demographic, which is taken by the act of dumping urine, for example, as a by-product, or as simple as juggin’ piss, might needs be, as it were - it’s piss, of all things, and at times, it’s also collected and stored - sometimes already processed, for some of the content of the urine, and people get a hard time about the stuff, potentially, even about dumping it in the toilet, at that point, or even as fresh as it comes, for the fact that it’s so musky and it’s got that strangely competitive fragrant sort of character about it. Typically, I hear that this sort of person produces a “nuclearly-hot” urine product, and it’s got an undue reclamation burden about it. 

In any case, this tree-watering effort is, in part, self-starter initiative, since I have a background in gardening and botany, to begin with, and those areas of study have expanded on in to suitable relevant sustainability and economical development platforms of research and development, in my adult years, and I’ve produced some desirable outcomes with my watering and feeding efforts, which I’ll update here with, perhaps, once I get a chance to look back on my Twitter account, and chart back the progress that’s been made, both this year, and historically - it’s a community-minded effort, even if merits are being counted, in some cases, because of the significant challenge (that it seems to be) of watering, in and of itself - it either costs upwards of minimum wage, plus transportation, or the same needs to be met, with the goals of merit and of simple achievement in mind - many times, accompanied by some off hours piss antics; it’s enough to upend some people’s dedications to establishing a reputation for achievement, and perseverance through challenging times, yet, when many other viable options of claiming a hand in some form of offering, when it comes to civic sorts of merit that could be attested to, or supposed, many of us find ourselves haplessly civilian, and flailing for any crumbs of recognition, whereas we inevitably, over and over again, get told that we’re doing the wrong thing, whereas many of us cannot account for some sizable portion of “stuff that we do,” that ends up being brought up for question, and for rebuke. My take on things was that watering the trees was an easy enough claim of verifiable work that could be done, that would produce likable results, all things said and done. 





Thursday, September 8

How to rig a bum cart for success


Doing a bum cart life gig is a palpable common bum identity commonly flaunted in a metropolitan district such as DTLA (downtown Los Angeles, CA, USA). The benefits of doing bum cart life are manifold over other types of transitive bum personae such as the bicycling bum and the bag'ged bum, « on foot. »
This one is bum life at it's most flaunch; stylistically. A bum cart with all the trimmings - a unicorn cosplay costume head sticking out - to denote the playfulness and good humor of the bum's identity,
Along with needful trimmings, such as site-detoxification utilities, sweetened powdered milk jug for bread-feeding the pigeons, luxuriant toiletries from various boutique retailers of finery Los Angeles and beyond, hand sanitizer (useful in a post COVID-19 outbreak world), and a daily usage recyclables collecting bag, up top.
Many various-use bags can be tied alongside the ridges of the handles and top of the cart, for sorting the daily necessities of bum life. 

One thing to make sure of, though, is that you don't overload the bum personal tote cart too jaunted - the cart could potentially break down, at the axles, particularly going down a curb. 


Update: Sunday, August 14th, 2022:

I’ve discerned, lately, that a fair-enough degree of bum-looking-ness, for a cart, will earn a person “not” having their bum cart stolen, in downtown LA, while sleeping in certain areas, or, for leaving it outside of Ralph’s, while grocery shopping, at least, during certain hours, or days of the week, while out shopping. I’d stayed out, for the entire week, and thankfully, food stamps had come in, earlier today, so I went to the grocery store. 


Update: Thursday, September 8th, 6:56 a.m. - new incarnations on of bum cart aspirations - now, with a dolly. 

I’d tried out tote carting a whole plenty much, and the things always break, after several weeks, or less. For me, it’s tough on my budget, to try and replace these sorts of things, so I was fortunate to come across this sturdy-looking dolly | hand truck rendition of the similar notion; the bum tote cart. 


With this version, I’m capable of having a compact form, for the cart’s travel time, and I can fit it in to my food-carrying backpack (also pictured, since the cart can fold flat. All convenient features of this combo. I’m going to add some new noiseless wheels, so I can go about my tree-watering work by night, hauling jugs of water, and watering the trees; that’s my plan for this backpacking lifestyle aspiration. I can’t wait to try it out!



Sunday, August 28

A pigeon platform for the L.A. mayoral race in 2022.

 Original publishing date: 03/08/2022 (updating).

Theme: humor, satire, community voices

I don’t know about you, out there, but I can’t get enough of the news about Los Angeles. 

Staying informed, when it comes to local topics, here in Los Angeles, (at least, for myself) ignites the imagination. Sometimes I believe what I see on the news, and then, on one hand, I feel like I get a taste of a seedy side of investigative journalism. That’s a whole different topic, though, in and of itself. I’m more interested in chiming in on this year’s mayor’s office bid, which is reportedly a hotly contested position (supposedly <_<)… whereas I feel that I get a unique opportunity afforded to me, for being the [un]official DTLA pigeon flocks’ feeder, going on about 5 years, at this point. 

Look at how far we’d come.

Back when I started feeding pigeons, I was a homeless transient, loosely centered around various localities. I recollect that there were “No feeding the birds” signs up, here and there. Upon becoming informed, through looking the subject up, online, I found that it was a civic decency issue, of the birds potentially occupying too much pedestrian-centric sidewalk real estate, whereas there was not quite an orderly and dedicated care regimen for the birds, and their diet (and defecation) was a less (or not at all) managed issue. Regardless, the birds have been here, all along. They exist in every big city, in America, I’d largely suppose, and it’s known that pigeon fancying, bird feeding, and avian sport plays in to some of our deepest recollections on a theme of Americana, and even at that, pigeon care exists as a hobby, the world around - as can be discerned, from Facebook groups, for example. 

What do pigeons have to do with the mayoral race? 

On one hand, not a whole lot. Yet, if we take a more critical approach, looking intently, in to the semiotics and symbolism of what this departure of our long-standing current mayoral figure, Eric Garcetti, implies, it is a timely and serendipitous existential crisis, as for my own take on things, with President Biden’s bid and beck and call for our city’s leader to take on the task of ambassadorship to the nation of India, which, for me, as a mental health client and patient who is served by the County and City of Los Angeles, strikes a personal note; I won’t delve in to further details - discussing mental health and psychiatric issues, without regard for privacy is one of the formative tenets that would constitute a violation of ethics in the profession. Far be it, for me, to make waves in a professional licensure-based occupation, even whereas I have interest in the field, personally; I’m just a hard-liner for that “rules are the rules,” and I can’t breach terms on this Golden Rule tenet feature of the profession, it’s just too controversial. 

Yet, as insightful insiders could come to consider, having taken in this shallow context, and with me, having some informal political notoriety, I take my jibs and jabs, as a mock-up slight take on a public figure, being the pigeon-feeder, as my surface-level persona, as well as a figurative stage for giving voice and life energy to some seeded causes and purpose, in the context of pigeon feeding, and what it means, in a deeper, more considerate sense, in the hearts and minds of the people. On one hand, I’ve won a fair closely-held and dear position, in this by-line, of civic aptitude; at least - in the hearts and minds of the birds. They’ve been shown that they would commonly be seen to reject food that had been thrown out, for them, and rather, they wait, faithfully, for my arrival, largely because I make sure to feed them fresh food, but also on account of that they’d come to know me, for who I am, and for what I look like. It’s truly a heartwarming basis that I’ve established here, and with cameras watching, as my witness, I can attest to that much, about the primacy and virtue of the will and volition to keep the birds fed, in the civic center localities. 

On one hand, it’s a humble blessing, being a figure who is fraught with voices in my head: various personas, identities, and figures from my past, perhaps; and as well - a futuristic side-chained intelligence feed, of variable worth, as far as trust and actionable deeds to come about, if I were to entertain some of these intermittent intrusions, of the mind. Why this sort of thing happens? It’s as variable as people’s dedications are, towards some cause wrought out of my sentiment, and critique, on a subject, whereas some people just don’t like me, and they use dirty politics to edge a means and purpose in, on the dialectical, and the passing of time; the words, the deeds, and the dirt that comes about, being that we were battered creatures, of a common collective sort, some of us - me being amongst them, with some skeletons in my closet, whereas I’ve outlived, and corrected those dark side features about myself, as best that I could, whereas I struggle still, with the jokes, which catch my attention and breach my shortcomings’ threshold of exclusivity, in discernment - although this trait is not uncommon amongst several of my peers; these injured birds, so to speak, that we are, out of the flock of the rest of the population at large. 

I feel that many of these people, similarly afflicted, simply don’t see the part of Downtown LA that I do - having come to [some] familiar faces, on a daily basis (such as the grocery store employees), and, for that matter, I’ve come to find that adult relationships, in particular, for someone such as myself, are hard-won, and few and far between. People are highly industrious, seeking peak-intelligence, measured extents of adventuring in to the ego, and subject to ridicule, quite easily, from entertaining an improper slight - par inelegance, of the mind, even, yet many an occasion occurs, in which a person’s loose tongue will do them in - to ineffable and inalienable consequence - it’s dirty: downtown… and it’s “whose” job to clean it up? My contribution, be it what it may be, in my own mind, and in the eyes and opinions of people who witness it, and might care about the topic, for any sort of basis to come of it, and I have my blogs and social media to attest to any challenge, per se, and I feel that I’m validated in as much, given that I receive healthy and long-standing support, to a variable, yet redeemable pace and degree of observance, that I’ve come to recognize, being that I keep track of my analytics, stats, and hit counts, for example (or, the apps do it for me, that is). 

That being said, in my wildest imaginations, bearing down, somewhat, upon this notion that I, as well as some others, amongst me, friend or foe, are still nascent identities to become our own; to live down our closeted skeletons, shake off these dusty old portrayals of self, and somehow, aspire, and achieve, in fitting in, or of finding a niche, and for seeking that end in life which truly makes us happy - all while balancing so much adventure and leisure, being that we reside in the city of Los Angeles, and for that there is so much to distract us… 

Can’t you guys find some way to wisen up, like the older folks do?

Yesterday, some guy said my name, after I passed him by, and then I turned and looked, and he called me a psychopath. Ha. I was already scurred by that time, for imagining that stuff that seemed odd, out and about, could somehow pertain to my lonesome, and then, some guy says my name, and calls me a psychopath. He was an older gent, for that matter, though, and there was a touch of familiarity, perhaps, about it, and perhaps it was a gesture of graciousness upon me. I’ll have to revisit this route that I took, while making my way home. I had done that, for that matter, on this instance. But how could the people so commonly identify me? I’m not, like… I dunno. I’m not all that popular. These sorts of public shows of tactical superiority over me, the pigeon feeder, really get to me, over time, and I hear all sorts of fantastical flights of diversion from reason and soundness, of the mind’s resolve to become an adult, rather than languish in the follies of various stages or “growing up.” I’m nearly 40, now, and that ought to be a significant and well enough marker for a coming of age, a passing of time, and a ritual, of sorts, tending to a new stage of adulting, professionalism, and career. Somehow, shake this crisis and pandemic stuff off of our shoulders, and become who we would be, under the observation of our leaders, whom our current one, here in Los Angeles, the mayor, I feel, has been doing a fine and well enough job. It’s a tough job, with unseemly demands, and devious delights, in partaking of the human capital that comprises our city, and from what I’ve experienced, personally, it’s sometimes simply too much that’s offered to public figures - there’s much less accountability in the private sector, much more anonymity, and much more… umm, there’s a movie industry Script Supervisor word for it… although I forget… linearity, is not quite it; cohesion - somewhat, yet it would take a true insider to know what the term is, and I’ve got so many other minds of influence about and upon me; I’m not quite skilled, to that effect. What I do know, though, is quite sturdy, in my mind, and I feel like I make some people forget about what a problem was, about me, to begin with, after introducing myself, and this pigeon platform of simple service to the animals, and birds, and sometimes, I offer some charitable donations and deeds to the people, as well (just saying), but my take on this year’s mayoral race, is “does he have to | want to leave office?” and who could really take his place, given this civic uncertainty premise, of a by and large big city, and all of the personae indebted to the already-established networks of communications and community, that it were, that it is? What if somebody gets hurt, out of being neglected, or forgotten, in the course of a new line of duty, and new public officers? 

I’ve tried out various looks, of myself - just as a trifling corollary to the situation, and I must say - the close-cropped, well-groomed appearance must be the one that takes the cake, as the most astute look, that portrays the person, and the preeminence of good taste, posterity, and virtue, the best. Some of these corollary side-stories and by-lines, gaining the hopeful inductees, for the position, some notoriety, and in Los Angeles, I couldn’t tell you what anybody else’s storybook identity gets made out to be, and what to make of it, for what it’s made of, and from - I’m just the pigeon feeder, but I feel like even our current mayor had been given some notice about me - feeding the pigeons, and he approved. As to who can solve this homelessness problem? My take on it is - listen to the voices, even though nobody “told” me or you, “officially” - in many cases, they’re simply sober living home runaways, camped out for adventure, and then, they become bold, or scurred, or filthy, for being out in the elements, but finding people work - the ones who are fit and suitable for it: I feel that that should be a priority. For the problem-dealing and problem-solving demographics, they’ve got their work cut out for them - piles of trash, people setting things on fire, trapping pigeons, yelling in the streets - who knows how to solve these problems quick enough, for people’s liking? 

Just some thoughts on and around this topic. Thanks for reading. 

An update: 04/25/2022. A Monday.

A Monday after a week like last week? People were out and about, the night prior, doing all sorts of sporting and competitive things, I’d suppose. I hung out over in a generally desolate part of town, although there seems to be some people who like to park there, and also a wayward traveler, on foot, every now and then. Across the street, things are banging. There’s new upstart nightlife and restaurant fare, and the views can’t much be beat, to a large degree. Up at the top of Bunker Hill is where City Hall begins, as the staging grounds for the City’s workforce and administrators, as well as the legal profession, and the nation’s history and armed forces are also commemorated, in the uphill east-to-west direction. Then there’s the place for culture, and the arts, at the top of the hill, and beyond that, there’s the Department of Water and Power, which seems scarcely populated, but then again, there seems to be little work. 

On one hand, at some point, a while back, I’d gloated over the notion that there was an endlessly boundless capability, of the people’s impetus in seeing unprecedented gains in culture and in intelligence. On that note, I try to keep up with many streams and threads of intelligence, but my argument, in my own bias, is that I get too constantly distracted by people intentionally diverting my mind and body’s resources, in going out to do this labor: the work of feeding the birds. It had been happening regularly, and I’m not quite sure what became of those people, but I feel like I’m being made to live around some of them, as that they’re portrayed as that they can’t do without me - I know, it would tend towards that some graciousness be shown, but I have particular and high standards for the people who would accompany me, along my journeys and for my discoveries in life, but - to pare down the perspective at hand, I simply want to do the pigeon and sparrow feeding thing, and it feels like people either want to take up that space from me, for one thing; they have inordinate and uncultured attitudes and egos, number two, and they fail to apologize for their former transgressions, seeming, instead, to show up with some sort of story built upon a basis of entitlements, or abuses that they’d lobbed at me, from a distance, somewhat “romantically,” they might offer, about the circumstances. 

In any case, I was supposed to comment on this update about how the news is going south, lately, and significantly news-bwopp bwopped, is, like bwopp a bwopper made them that “news person” hungry - awrr 🦖 rawr, awrr rawr rawr: hungry for that gig, just to bwammo people’s expectations, with a care for accountability cast to the wind, and raw deals being struck, here and there, such as that the pigeon feeder ought to be challenged by sporting types, on every day, and things of that nature, in being obvious. It’s been a secluded and neglected feature of on-screen prattle, yet the ones who have to show face, and report on things, intelligibly, are, on one hand, a fair degree more sober and well-heeled in this industry, here in Los Angeles. What does the pigeon feeder have to do with anything? 

It would somewhat pertain, I suppose, drawing some conjectural evocations of common identity and culture, that we have, within the focus context of that the mayor of Los Angeles, was largely touted as that he’d be reassigned, to the Biden Administration, for the sake of doing an “India Ambassador” job, and, in which case, I draw some slight professional insight and expertise, yet I also, here and there, do the misfortunate realist position, of being casually biting, in describing and in speaking on some things, and I’d brought up figures such as a Baba, for perusal’s sake, and somewhat, for dramatic effect. I was queried on the reassignment, which could possibly have seemed to have been tough, and people even seemed to want for me, myself, to do the job, but the real in-person reality of some individuals, is much more an unexpected, somewhat concealed, perhaps fluid, and secretively dynamic sort of encounter, and I felt that I saw this, the other day, last week, in that I saw somebody who looked like our mayor, during a public event, which I sat in on. 

“Watch out for Pakistani shenanigans,” was my second-hand advice, to the voices in my head. I’d learned that one, back in college. The Pakistanis are perhaps friendly, and yet, there’s a much deeper and more insightful tirade of racial identity and culture which pervades the ‘Stanis, the [x]istans, the Europeans, the Russians, and the Chinese - on one hand, it’s a significantly large expanse of land, to suppose so much context be drawn of them, yet the land mass is one continuous mass of land, and, to digress, for just a moment, the cultures there do, in fact, somewhat seamlessly flow, in the countries that maintain their national identities, yet, take in to consideration that these people are multiply-imbued and endowed with traits of one and the other culture, of the expanse of land that these people are hailing from, as their homeland. I’d covered this phenomenon, previously, but I’m repeating myself, a bit, here, on account of that people are forgetting that I had ever established any real importance in the lives of people, whereas many people, scattered that they may be, are simply disregarded, and abused, of their forthright willingness, otherwise, of that they would potentially socialize with me, rather than someone they find offensive - here, in this peculiar trait, upon life, many people find reason and purpose in discriminating against others, and in making demands. 

Being that homelessness is such a large issue, at context, my other large issues at context, recently, simply to bring folks up to speed, is “xxx on break,” with xxx being a mathematical figure, here, for consideration’s sake, and, for that matter, I’m in the thick of things, making me a “viable” target for victim profiling sorts, and for human traffickers. The thing to keep in mind, though, is the power wielded, just potentially, by another administrative executive, whereas I saw the book, in the library, on the subject - somewhat as simple as her superficial charm would be seen to be. But, to be truthful, there’s a woman online, given a search for fondling girl’s breasts (small tits) kind of relevance and contexts, to draw up, and I truly felt that perhaps the person in this administrative position was willfully accommodating me in becoming a profiled victim and long-term failure account, in the otherwise, to a large degree - lackluster prognosis and outlook, for the individuals concerned with this particular issue, at context - and then, there was the book! And it seemed so slight, of that it was her, but then, I, too was taken by the administrative figure’s charms, and I enjoyed a bit of looksies in to seeing her small titties be fondled, and just maybe, that’s her, as well, but that couldn’t possibly be what the people would, by and large, appreciate of and from me, for example. 

Aside from all that, the culture, in context, here is capable of upward mobility, in some instances, and well-enough assimilation, although “obvious” things, that would be supposed of some people, I’d imagine, could potentially happen, but maybe it would be, like, a train ride and a hike up the road, a bit, from Tinseltown, and who gets all this money? - on one hand, somewhat at issue, and then, I’m being essentially blacklisted, from many things, but that’s only because some people are put at threat, for managing a problem that pops up. I guess that there was some additional inquiry, in to the spot where it goes down, but all things contextually swirling about - do seem to have been going on, over there, and it’s being overrun, potentially, as a problem, but maybe the people inside are scary, or who knows where they get caught, in breaking the law, such that had happened, earlier in the day, yesterday. Maybe it was today. I don’t quite recall, all that well. There are other people who do take my accounts, on things, seriously, and why not? Yet people seem to largely be put in a brinksmanship position, on things, and who would abandon a job that’s needfully fulfilled, well enough, already? 

If I spoke on things, I’d speak like that on what’s going on, and I’d draw some minor relevance, about people, informed, on the issue, but the people who care not, for vertical advancement, in sociable economics, are largely holding people back, somewhat, from enjoying the town, of a safe manner, whereas some people are, for example… awrr…<_< … arrr. 🐕 

Just arrr… that’s good enough, for people. It’s the end of the night. Tomorrow, would wind up being much the same, except that many people will simply fail, in doing what they set out to do, on account of that sleeping feels great, it’s presumed, and then - none of this nonsense going on, that’s still going on, but perhaps I ought to be a bit more adventuresome, and venture some risk, and distribution of my efforts, and I’ve got a great support mechanism, on one hand - it does suit my condition quite equitably, I just have to be capable of paying my quarterly taxes on things, and I really do appreciate things that I get, and people I come across, in general, but sometimes, there’s a type of person whom I just can’t quite get along with, for one reason, or another, but I’m just somewhat being led in to annotating this piece’s update with that information. I wrote it down, I guess that that person is viable, in my life, as well. I’ve got a significant well, uh, I dunno. I just treat it like an NDA. I think that that was somewhat the premise. Alright. Goodbye. 


August 27th, 2022, evening

I had come out to feed the pigeons and sparrows for the day, and I missed some of the bird flocks, yet, come evening, at the DTLA Proud Festival, and in neighboring areas, there was some talk and developments that amounted to that it was starting to appear as that I was becoming a popular notion, in unofficial polling efforts which had been going on, along with (I think) select news media markets reporting on me, asking if people felt that the pigeon-feeding bum and public works efforts version of me merited me a chance at becoming mayor, should I have ran, in this year’s race. Perhaps I’ll consider it, for next year, or maybe, for a longer haul type of consideration. On one hand, my good health is always a challenge, in upkeep, and if I’m good for it, on one year, I ought to be good for it for the long run, I feel. 

It’s a challenging premise, leading up to the prospect of supposing that I feel like I could be mayor, unofficially, during the time being, because it’s an obvious shortcoming if I mess up about showing up to feed the pigeons on one day or another. There’s other basic issues about the premise of it, that I’d espoused as part of my values platform, such as that I’d felt that I could contribute to cleanup efforts of the area in which I live, which is South Los Angeles - still part of Los Angeles, the city. My current stance is that I feel that it’s impossible for a single person to make much of a dent in clearing out what amounts to a vast spree of bulk dumping. I’d spotted The L.A. Conservancy Corps out in South Los Angeles doing the work, and there’s another company, with a truck, that does custodial services for the standing trash cans and for the dumping and litter that goes on aside from that work. Some guy threw some litter on the ground, right in front of me, on this day, and my remote sensing “claim” that he’d made, as an unspoken gesture of “believable” or “perhaps” that he’d agree with the thought, should it have “actually” been suggested to him, in his own mind, while he walked away, after tossing the litter out, in front of me, was of a sense of that he’s a “drug dealer” and they have it hard enough, in life, as it is, and ought not someone else pick it up for him? 

It’s a pervasive type of belief, on one hand. On the other hand, it’s a significantly childish and oppositionally-minded attitude, and the armed forces, or law enforcement, apparently, are given the task of correcting those individuals. 

In any case, this “not showing up” issue typically has to do with the amount of inflammation I’d taken on, over the course of the day, or days, that I go out, doing this work. Sometimes it feels like the foundation of the place underneath me, somewhat - wherever I am, is being “jacked up” or “down,” and, I suppose, it affects the degree of inflammation I hold on to, in differing parts of my body. If I don’t get up, it’ll simply become completely “displaced,” rather than it blows off, potentially, if I walk it off, or I sometimes have the option of getting up, if I’m home, in particular, for the sake of taking a hot bath, and I sweat it out - it’s a very uncomfortable thing to do, at times, and there’s cheating shortcuts about the quality of “sweating it out,” for one thing, if I happen to hoist part of myself up out of the bath, and I try to cool off, rather. Twice this week, though, I fell asleep in the bathtub, and I find that to be a good sign, as far as “feeling better” goes, for having taken a bath, for how much better I feel, in general.

Overall, I feel that my own personal markers of success, in achieving some change and progress, in society, is that the birds remain fed, and looking well, acting friendly, and that some of the trees remain green and watered, as well as that it takes feeding of the trees, some of them, with minerals and other nutrients, for their upkeep. There were some other markers of success that need some work, as well, which could perhaps use some work, such as joking around, and sobriety, but circumstances seemed fairly favorable, currently, given all other things considered.

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