If you read the original Wandering Writer, you know I’ve long been on the hunt for the perfect writing locale. Admittedly, this process can serve as a poorly disguised tool of procrastination, allowing me to dwell on finding the perfect combination of people watching, inspirational yet not distracting ambient noise, and availability of delicious, nutritious food. Since finishing the first draft of my screenplay (yay!) and thus taking a writing break, I haven’t been looking so specifically for a writing destination, but more for an eventual living destination. I spend a good deal of time pondering where I want to end up in Los Angeles. I think once I’ve made my millions, Hollywood Hills are the place to be. When I hike Runyon Canyon and look out onto the hills, I can’t imagine a more perfect place to raise a family, plant a garden, and play with my future four dogs and one pig. That said- it’s going to take a few blockbusters to afford that style of living, which brings me to my current dilemma:
Where to spend my life until then? Right now I’m quite happy with my lovely roommates in our beautiful Westwood home that I am fortunate to live in. However, I’m always working on my next move in the back of my mind (you never know when my roommate/best-friend/owner-of-our-home is going to figure out how to legally get her phenomenal Bahamian boyfriend to move to LA, which could eventually prompt my homelessness). Here are the qualities I’m seeking in a potential mate- lots of trees and/or beach (basically just real, untamed, ungroomed, wild nature), proximity to vegan restaurants, cool, artsy, smart neighbors, eclectic music scene, and most importantly, good writing atmosphere.
The two primary candidates are Silver Lake/Echo Park (I count that as one) and Venice Beach. Opposites in many ways but twins in many others. Until recently, the Silver Lake area was winning. I think it’s definitely ahead in terms of food, but not by much. There’s something indescribable I love about the atmosphere over there. I guess I should call a spade a spade and admit that I’m a wannabe hipster (which is the worst thing to be because real hipsters can see right through that) and it’s the hipsteriest part of LA. Which makes sense, given that it’s full of writers, artists, musicians, directors (my former boss has an adorable Echo Lake house with an unreal view of the city), and designers. It seems like the obvious solution. However, this weekend was a bit of a game changer. My Momma was in town and we spent last night in a gorgeous hotel in Laguna Beach. It’s advertised as “on the water” but it’s practically IN the water. This was our view:
The sound of those waves crashing at night was almost enough to turn my Echo Park loving soul into a hardcore beach bum. Imagine waking up to that beautiful music every morning. I think that can only be good for the heart. What if I could find a quaint little Venice apartment with a view of the beach? I realize that can’t be an easy thing to find, but maybe not impossible. Plus, I’m dying to learn to surf. That could be much more difficult living in Silver/Echo, as it’s an hour-ish to the beach in traffic. Imagine writing in a room like this with a view like this:
How could you NOT write a masterpiece with that kind of energy?
But…the counterculture-esque vibe of Silver/Echo is still calling my name. I’m not much closer to reaching a conclusion, but at least I have a while.