Prologue

You hear the same thing every time; “why did you come to LA?” Never Los Angeles; everyone will think you’re a tourist if you say “los Angeles”. The answers always the same, too: “ Oh, I just love the big city, the culture, the art scene.” Inside, of course, you want to make it big, get discovered, publish the important paper, and, if you’re insecure and cynical like me, to be able to go to your 10^th high school reunion and be the one who Made It.

I’ve only once met someone who actually loved the City itself. When I asked her why she came to LA, she just smiled and gave the only unique response I’ve heard.

You have to understand about this girl. She was very average. Non-descript blondish hair, about a size 13, grey-green eyes, so on and so forth. But she noticed the things that no-one else ever took time to notice, and got excited over the most mundane things (she was always the first to point out that “mundane” meant “of the world”, and the world was anything but boring.)

She came to the West Coast not to find herself, but to lose herself. She didn’t want to go home as the person who had Made It, but as someone who had Found It.

She said she had come to the city of Angels to learn to live in the City of God. She said she had come to Los Angeles to become a saint.