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THEY CALL IT THE CITY OF ANGELS
Last Year, The Editor of BUREAU of ARTS and CULTURE Magazine Announced a New Experimental Fiction Novel all about Los Angeles. Mr Triliegi wrote a chapter a day for several few weeks, working without notes or any preconceived structure and posted the results daily at various BUREAU Sites that regularly showcase Art, Theater, Music, Photography Cultural & Community events. Part One of The Series lasted all of 22 Chapters and was a resoundingly successful, accepted Literary Art Work. Mister Joshua Triliegi will again repeat that process for Part Two beginning In August 2014.
The New Chapters will be published daily M - F at our different community sites and can be translated into a multitude of languages for easy reading. THE MOST RECENT CHAPTER APPEARS AT THE TOP AND THE PREVIOUS EPISODES APPEAR IN ORDER BELOW THE DAILY. YOU MAY ALSO DOWNLOAD THE ENTIRE PART ONE FOR FREE AT LINK COLUMN ON LEFT OR TO READ THE FIRST FIVE CHAPTERS SIMPLY SCROLL DOWN AND ENJOY THE READ.
" I thought it would be a good writing exercise to simply write about what I see and hear everyday on the streets of the city. To simply create a chapter a day based on the people and things going on in Los Angeles. Since we all come from so many variable back grounds, styles, cultures and languages, I decided to structure the multi character novel to represent all of Los Angeles. I simply write a chapter a day by allowing the characters to unfold and the story, as well as the structure to reveal itself ."
" Its a challenge to simply introduce a character and follow the creative line as it flows into something structured and complete. I usually know the beginning and the end of each Chapter and simply let the middle fill itself out. I like the daily discipline as well as the audience being in on the process. In this particular case, I do not take any written notes. I just start with an idea and let it flow. This is not a normal novel by any means, but it is a new and interesting challenge for both the writer and the readers. It's been a lot of fun. I hope the people of Los Angeles and the world will follow it out as it reveals itself. As the writer, in this particular case, I am just as curious as the reader as to what will happen and how things will go. The cool thing about this project is how quickly the characters began to take on a life of their own. I am curious to see what they do next"
- Joshua Triliegi
THEY CALL IT THE CITY OF ANGELS
New Fiction By BUREAU Editor Joshua TRILIEGI
Each Chapter is Written Consecutively in a 24 Hour Period without Notes & Published
SEASON TWO / EPISODE TEN / CHAPTER 32
BLOOD
Junior and Louis had done the impossible and yet, for Junior, it was only the beginning. He still had to follow through with his assignments. The first was to visit an upholsterer just outside of Mexico City. That was going to take a day, then he had to get back up to the border, which was another 30 hour drive. He talked Louis into staying on at the ranch. The adobe abode to the East was made available and Louis could live comfortably there for the time being. There was no reason for him to return to work as a busboy at this time, he had been given a new bank account and was now just soothing into the idea that he was now a Don. This was his Ranch and he was now an active partner as opposed just the guy renting the place to someone else. Because of the fact that Rafael and his family had started their business entity with Louis' original stock of animals, trees and machinery, it gave him an actual interest in the advancement of that stock in a financial way as mentioned in his original rudimentary contract. Now, the new contract included a salary, a percentage breakdown of stock at various levels and allowed for Louis to stay on the property as long as he desired. Junior had done well by his father and when he called the members of his circuit, they told him that the reward he had been promised had now been delivered and he would have to work hard to retain that reward. He agreed to do so and they gave him the exact address and location of the upholsterer outside of Mexico City. He was told to order the new seated upholstery in red leather with white piping and to be sure that he was there at the opening hour. Then he was to drive back up to the border and enter back into the United States at five in the afternoon, two days after the upholstery had been completed. Which meant he would be driving fifteen hours a day. Junior was told that an event was going to happen at the border. His job was to delay the officials from apprehending a group of individuals who will be crossing into America at the same time. Which could mean any number of actions depending on the day's circumstances: keep the attention of other guards, distract through some form of activity, obstruct the pathway of anyone in pursuit and if all else fails, if you see an action happening elsewhere, to make a scene for no reason at all. Junior said he understood. Junior got into his car and headed for Mexico City
Junior was parked out in front of the upholsterers when they opened up. He began describing what he was looking for: red leather with white piping. The man looked at him kind of funny and repeated very slowly,"Rojo and Blanco" ? Junior shook his head yes, "Front and back. Right away." The man ran to the back of the store, he got on the telephone, made a quick call and grabbed his tools to begin removing the seats from Juniors car. While Junior sat in the front of the store a man dressed as an old style monk entered the store carrying a small leather bound object wrapped in a roll. The two men talked and then the man sat next to Junior. He spoke in a broken english, "So you are getting your seats improved ?" "Yes," Junior replied. "Have you seen our church yet ?" "No, I just got into town." The man continued, "It is going to take most of the day, why don't I show you around and give you a tour ?" Junior sussed up the guy, "I would like to see the church. Are you a Father," he asked the man ? "No, I am more like a brother, you might say." He continued, "This is the best leather craftsman in all of Mexico City, How did you come about utilizing his services ?" Junior was hesitant, "My father owns a ranch near Centro, we heard that this was the best place to get saddles long ago." "And so you choose red leather with white piping. How did you come to make that choice ?" Now Junior was unsure of this guy, "Well, I have always liked that particular combination. You know, the purity of white and the passion of red." Now the man became animated and asked if he would like to see the church now. Junior agreed and the two men walked a few blocks and entered through the side. "You know that long before the churches were built, before the spaniards came, the Indians used this exact same location for their ceremonies. Prayer, music, healing, deep thought, meditation, marriage, community, ecology all stem from the original Indians." Now Junior was getting interested, he had been thinking much about his experience with the Indian from his childhood and he spoke up quickly, "As a very young boy, I experienced many things with a local Indian, he gave me lessons, including bear medicine," he added the word, "brother." The man from the church continued, "There is a new movement that is happening here in Mexico and around the world. Indigenous peoples are rediscovering their history and making a direct link with the pre conquistador experience. It is not a rebellion, it is an awakening, an awareness of our power. Many people both within the church and without have come to a major realization that the individual is the power. Yes, we are a group of people. But each person must find their own personal power, as Jesus found his…" and he pointed up at the crucifixion. "But what kind of power is that, to die in such a way ?" He looked at Junior, placed his hand on his shoulder and said, "Every man and every woman and every animal and even the plant life, must die, but what did you do with life ? What did you do with death ? To inspire so many millions of people, was that not a death worth dying ?" Junior looked at the man as he went on, "The Indians have made peace with the church and with themselves, but we are not fools, we are not puppets, we are not living in fear of crucifixion as we once did. When men in boats rode horses into our villages and exposed us to the image of a man tied to a cross. Can you imagine how that image was originally interpreted ?" Junior thought about it. Then the man continued, "That image scared the original Indians, it was an illustrated threat that said: This is what we will do to you, if you do not cooperate." Junior had misjudged the man, he was actually a radical. "Where do you live ?", the man asked. "In America", Junior replied. "Where in America ?" the man asked. Junior then answered, "I live in Los Angeles." The man said out loud, "The City of ANGELS" and pointed to all the paintings on the walls. "Have you been to Broadway ?" he asked. Junior thought he meant Broadway in New York, "You mean the street ?", he asked. "Yes, that street is actually called, 'Eternidad', it was a Mexican Street in a Mexican City and State and Country, long before Pico and Sepulveda pushed the Indians off their property, so they could gain some for themselves. You recognize those names too, eh ?" Junior replied "Yes, brother." The man continued, "Long ago, a man came to this church and he brought a box of sacred objects from Europe, from Italy and from the Middle East. It is said that he had travelled the world to protect the ancient objects and relics and so, many were replicated, so that the actual original objects could stay in the hands of the people, instead of the many institutions and when I use the word, 'institution', I am actually referring to the very place that you and I are standing. The people of this planet feel that they own the right to their great teachers and Gods: Jesus, Buddha, Allah, Sellasie, Muhammad, Yahweh, the great one, all mighty god and to some, to the Indians, the very earth itself. You are now apart of something. This is bigger than you and me and this church and anything you could have ever imagined." Junior didn't say a word. The two men walked up the stairs to the top of the bell tower and looked over the city. "Imagine all this before conquistadors. Villages, teepees, ancient astrology, sciences, medicines, sports, agriculture, time systems: we are a noble people. You are a man with a very important mission." Then the old man halted his speech, turned to Junior and said, "Now, lets get something to eat, I'm starving." And the two men walked back down the steps. Junior began to like this guy.
Junior had spent the entire day with the old man and his imagination was now swirling with ideas. He didn't know why, but he was feeling very much alive. When the man walked him back to the upholsterer, the work had been completed. Junior was amazed, how could one man do all that in eight hours? When he walked into the back room, he saw a team of men sitting around a small table playing cards and laughing up a storm."I have come to pay for the work." Junior announced in spanish, the owner told him the cost again and Junior paid the man. "Well, Brother…," he told his tour guide, "It has been a fascinating afternoon and I appreciate your company." The man was visibly touched by Junior's leaving, "You have a long journey ahead of you. So I want you to be very careful. As you had recognized long ago, this place here makes the best saddles in all of Mexico City, but only a great man can handle great power. Remember, the conquistadors wielded their power over us with horses, but now, we have learned to ride. Handle your power well young man. Complete what you have bargained to do and be very careful as you enter back into America. You would not have been be the one chosen for this task had you not already been tested. Any man who lives in the dark for so many years is sure to recognize the light. If blood is spilt, be sure it is not yours, but if it be yours, do not fear for god is on your side." The old man had gotten so worked up that tears began to stream down his face and as Junior drove off, he began to wonder what the f*ck this was all about. As he looked in the rearview mirror, the group of men had come out from the back room and a small argument broke out between the men. It appeared that his tour guide was being chastised by the upholsterer, but he couldn't be sure. He had a job to do, so he got back on the road and headed north. He was just a day or so away from completing his mission.
All along the highway that first night, he noticed people along the sides of the roads with candles and alters. Whenever he passed a church, groups of people knelt on the side of the road, whenever he passed a rural area, several people held candles again and again. Junior thought that there must be some form of holy day happening, but he could not think of what it might be. He drove for twelve hours straight and at sun up, pulled to the side of the road and rested. He found a small cafe and got breakfast, the husband and wife smiled as if they knew him, while he ate, their daughter played on the ground in a corner. He noticed the picture of the saints on the wall and was reminded of what the brother had been saying back there. Again, Junior asked himself, "What was this really all about ?" He finished his meal, exited the cafe, and turned the corner to find his entire car was covered with ravens. "What the hell ?", he found an old broom alongside the cafe and shooed the birds away, but they just landed back on the car until he started it up and drove away. He drove another twelve hours. Now he was six hours away from the border and needed to get some rest, a wash, a shave and prepare for whatever was about to happen. He pulled to the side of a small riverbed and washed his face, he rinsed his shirt in the river and hung it to dry on a tree. Junior sat under the tree and fell asleep, when he awoke it was night. He looked at the car and the entire cab was lit up, "Did he leave the door open ?", he was wondering as he walked up to the car. He noticed that the windows were wide open and that the entire cab had filled with fireflies. It was a startling and beautiful sight. He looked in at the new red upholstery and again began to wonder what was really going on here. He walked back to the tree, grabbed his shirt, then back to the car again and all the fireflies had gone. He got into the car and drove into Tijuana.
Junior was half a day ahead of schedule, it was now Sunday. He hadn't seen a bullfight since he was a teenager and decided to attend. Plaza del Toros was a giant arena, the size of Dodger Stadium. It was beautiful cylinder shaped structure that sat just a mile or so from the coast and could be seen by those driving both south and north. Bullfighting was not just for the tourists, nor was it just for the wealthy. Not unlike other sports, a seat up front went for more than a seat in the bleachers, but when Junior was a kid, he noticed that to watch the bullfight from above, gave it a sense of ceremony and even majesty that a seat up front could not provide. He was so nervous about the coming event at the border and making sure that he was there at the exact time and place, that this was just a way to bide his time. He had always loved the pageantry of the event and found it a hypocrisy when people who ate red meat, wore leather belts and shoes and in general approved of the killing of bulls for food and fashion, but not in an ancient ritual. Most of the people who claimed to dislike the sport had never attended and had no idea that if the bull actually gored the toreador and won, then he was saved and set free to roam the ranches at will. Junior had never actually seen a bull win, but that possibility was always imminent throughout the ritual. He parked the car up front and noticed, for the first time in his life, the wealthy people of his fathers homeland. A group of men and women entered in their Sunday best, it was an entire family. The daughter was a healthy girl with a beautiful face that was both adorable and despicable at the same time. She was extremely attractive, the kind of woman that a man like Junior had never been close to, but had always been curious about. She wore a dark dress, her eyes flashed deep black that matched her hair which was braided in a way that looked like a work of art. Her skin was light coffee and she was obviously a woman, not a girl. Her eyes and lips were painted tastefully and Junior fixated on the girl. Then he saw that she was trying to get the attention of a young man among her friends, when the young man turned around, Junior saw the man next to him was Rafael, the younger man must have been his son Rafi and this was most likely the family that had invested in Junior's father's ranch. Junior saw Rafael and tried to avoid him, but Rafael had already caught his eye and excitedly, waved him over. "Junior," he shouted, and Junior waved and walked over to meet everyone in the group. "Everybody, I would like you to meet the son of Don Louis, the American businessman who owns the property and is now a partner in our family business," he said in spanish. Louis Junior shook hands with the men, said hello to the girls and the older women and when introduced to the Lady he had fixated on, he grabbed her hand, bowed, held it to his lips and handed it back to her. This was a very antiquated and dignified tradition he had seen in the movies when he was a boy and it caught the attention of the older folks. The women giggled and the men smiled. Then it came time for Junior to meet Rafael's son, "So, you're the crazy American Indian I've been hearing so much about from my father." He said in pitch perfect english. Junior laughed and to match him, tried his best to respond in proper spanish, "And you are the brilliant young scientist who went to University in Mexico City." Everybody laughed. They shook hands and now the girl with the deep black eyes was trying to get both of their attention. It looked to be quite an interesting bullfight.
Junior was half a day ahead of schedule, it was now Sunday. He hadn't seen a bullfight since he was a teenager and decided to attend. Plaza del Toros was a giant arena, the size of Dodger Stadium. It was beautiful cylinder shaped structure that sat just a mile or so from the coast and could be seen by those driving both south and north. Bullfighting was not just for the tourists, nor was it just for the wealthy. Not unlike other sports, a seat up front went for more than a seat in the bleachers, but when Junior was a kid, he noticed that to watch the bullfight from above, gave it a sense of ceremony and even majesty that a seat up front could not provide. He was so nervous about the coming event at the border and making sure that he was there at the exact time and place, that this was just a way to bide his time. He had always loved the pageantry of the event and found it a hypocrisy when people who ate red meat, wore leather belts and shoes and in general approved of the killing of bulls for food and fashion, but not in an ancient ritual. Most of the people who claimed to dislike the sport had never attended and had no idea that if the bull actually gored the toreador and won, then he was saved and set free to roam the ranches at will. Junior had never actually seen a bull win, but that possibility was always imminent throughout the ritual. He parked the car up front and noticed, for the first time in his life, the wealthy people of his fathers homeland. A group of men and women entered in their Sunday best, it was an entire family. The daughter was a healthy girl with a beautiful face that was both adorable and despicable at the same time. She was extremely attractive, the kind of woman that a man like Junior had never been close to, but had always been curious about. She wore a dark dress, her eyes flashed deep black that matched her hair which was braided in a way that looked like a work of art. Her skin was light coffee and she was obviously a woman, not a girl. Her eyes and lips were painted tastefully and Junior fixated on the girl. Then he saw that she was trying to get the attention of a young man among her friends, when the young man turned around, Junior saw the man next to him was Rafael, the younger man must have been his son Rafi and this was most likely the family that had invested in Junior's father's ranch. Junior saw Rafael and tried to avoid him, but Rafael had already caught his eye and excitedly, waved him over. "Junior," he shouted, and Junior waved and walked over to meet everyone in the group. "Everybody, I would like you to meet the son of Don Louis, the American businessman who owns the property and is now a partner in our family business," he said in spanish. Louis Junior shook hands with the men, said hello to the girls and the older women and when introduced to the Lady he had fixated on, he grabbed her hand, bowed, held it to his lips and handed it back to her. This was a very antiquated and dignified tradition he had seen in the movies when he was a boy and it caught the attention of the older folks. The women giggled and the men smiled. Then it came time for Junior to meet Rafael's son, "So, you're the crazy American Indian I've been hearing so much about from my father." He said in pitch perfect english. Junior laughed and to match him, tried his best to respond in proper spanish, "And you are the brilliant young scientist who went to University in Mexico City." Everybody laughed. They shook hands and now the girl with the deep black eyes was trying to get both of their attention. It looked to be quite an interesting bullfight.
Below are The New Chapters at the very Beginning of Part Two of the Fiction Project. The entire Part One is available on our Site BUREAU of ARTS and CULTURE . Com as well as here on our Community Sites in L.A. / N.Y.C / S.F. / Santa Barbara / San Diego and the New International Literary Site with links to Publishers, Book Stores and Literary Events. This particular Excerpted Version is accompanied by the Fine Art Paintings of Contributing Artist David FeBLAND represented by George BILLIS Gallery in LA and NYC. The Paintings existed and were created without knowledge of the Novel Project, though we felt their presence here allowed for a visual narrative that compliments the Series.
Published at BUREAU of Arts and Culture Sites in: New York City, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Seattle, San Diego, Santa Barbara and The Bureau International Literary Site in August 2014 Written by The Bureau Editor Joshua Triliegi Tune in Here Every day Monday to Friday for More Fine Art Paintings by New York Painter David FeBLAND with a Interview SUMMER VISIT THE ACTUALMAGAZINE AT : http://BUREAUofARTSandCULTURE.com
READ FIRST NINE EPISODES BY TAPPING THIS LINK LINE NOW
