I always loved who I was in LA; the city seemed to mark clear periods of growth, the backdrop of the coming-of-age movie that I believed to structure my life. But this time around, endless days alone replaced collective effervescence.
Fabian Fall’s bronze bust overlooks the Sanctum, the large, wood-paneled room on the second floor of The Crimson. It’s the only such figure in the room. The plaque underneath makes no mention of the fact that he took his own life.
That was always the comparison: life before you and life after you. I could not fathom how much had changed. I had gone from a year of stillness and solitude to the most socially and intellectually stimulating experience of my life. And that was only the beginning.