I grew up both close enough and far enough that I always hated LA—hated going there, hated the traffic, the city busy-ness, the randomness and amorphousness that was both easy and difficult to describe.

I hated it so much so that I began to love it. It reminded me of a person: human, flawed, honest, complex, paradoxical, somehow both ignorant and wise at the same time—and fundamentally alive and beautiful and generally happy in spite of it all. Some would say it lacks perspective, but I do think it has one. And it has such a personality, and knows itself. I've lived in cities without much of a personality, and I think knowing LA has helped me see that clearly. I miss it, for some reason I can't quite put my finger on.