City of Angels

The truth is that in a place like L.A. where the beauty is in industry - huge buildings towering the sky, cloaked in smog, serenity is hard to come by. Even in a place like the getty, the calmest place I know of here, it's all man made, beautiful of course, refreshing, but not real. I'll stay in Los Angeles long after I have to, that way I'll never have to face reality. And maybe when I die, i'll find that heaven is the getty, and I can stand there like I did this morning, seeing the whole city, and no people, but knowing that they live down there without me.

And if heaven is the Getty, then Keats, Yeats, Williams, Elliot, Picasso, Monet, Van Gogh, and all of the greatest writers/artists that ever lived would be there. I could see them lying on the grass, engrossed in work, sipping their coffees and thinking about what they remember of life, or admiring their work in one of the various pavillions. But not Shakespeare, He wouldn't be there, he'd destroy the atmosphere. Maybe I'll invite him for a Q & A though, that way I can ask him what the hell he was talking about.