SHELTER FROM THE NORM: It being Monday afternoon, I felt free to ride my bike down State Street without fear of crashing into any errant pedestrians otherwise preoccupied staring at the pale sun. The governor’s shutdown order rendering the better part of 11 Southern California counties instant ghost towns — in response to an avalanche of new COVID cases — had just gone into effect.
A blustery wind was blowing brown leaves loudly across the pavement. Strange berries were cluttering the gutters. A young couple with rolled up yoga mats strapped to their backs walked in search of a class they would not find.
Scrawled along the streets were cheerful chalk hieroglyphics. Big, loud “Closed” signs were taped to pink romper room boxes at State and Figueroa that until Sunday functioned as street furniture for the nearby coffeeshop. Down at State and Canon Perdido, architectural renderings bravely imagined an optimistic future where “Outdoor Performance Spaces” and “New Paseos, Courtyards and Plazas” might be relevant.