Thursday, August 10, 2006
Last night I had a rather interesting dream of Sacramento, neither past nor present, and probably not future, but one never knows. After a visit to the mall, my grandmother drove my mother and I (in a harrowing moment as a passenger) out through the parking lot, and stopped at a spot not far from an underpass--or I guess I should say, we were parked where you could see an enormous freeway hovering above--as big or bigger than spots in the MacArthur Maze., From below, it looked tipped at a precarious angle; an exaggerated look at the way freeways actually can be built. Above and below, and with exits to it, you could see what I think were Bertram Goldberg-designed apartment towers. A bit like Marina City or the Cermak projects in Chicago, they were seperate, but round towers which could turn to face in any direction, based upon the desire of the person living there. Most of them had been converted to something else, but there were still a few holdouts using them as individual living spaces. They had been white, but no longer new, they showed their age like most things that once looked modern but now look a little decrepit. I, however, thought they were beautiful, and highlighted by traffic lights and cranes, and interrupted by that enourmous freeway, the scene was altogether enchanting. I took pictures. Imagine my dismay when I woke up.