if i were blind, i would always live in the city. the country being too quiet. i’d have to strain to hear even the distant call of a bird, the croak of a frog. in the city i am harrassed by an overwhelming feast of noise day and night. i wake to the sound of cars being unarmed and revved for their commute. the honking begins. if honking were an art form, angelinos are all the picassos and rembrandts of sound. the buses whiz past on santa monica avenue. helicopters buzz overhead (chasing criminals or movie stars i’ll never know). the sounds almost escalate in the darkness of night. doors slamming, people laughing and shouting in their revelry, bums rummaging, music pounding...all discordant in the night. the nighttime can seem the loudest. of course, that’s when i’m blind.