There's something really uncanny about sitting in a front row (like, first 5 or so) of an airplane while most of the windows are closed. Not that airplanes provide much sense of place while traveling in general, but without even a little information from a window you may as well feel like you've just stopped into the world's jankiest teleporter. I'd have just as easily believed at any point we'd found ourselves vanished into another reality at any moment
I may have arrived in LA, but I'm staying in downtown LA, so I'm still in a place bound by human scale and physicality. It's actually, dare I say it, nice being here?? Every other time I've been in the area it's been in more suburban areas and those truly are the closest we get to non-Euclidean city design
