dear los angeles ...

at first glance you weren't as welcoming as i'd hoped. i guess i imagined you to be more like your more sophisticated brother, new york.

but you just aren't. you're dirty. noisy. busy. fully of cars. and traffic. and ... millions of pretentious film students.

when i first met you, i swore i would never revisit you messy awesomeness and most certainly would check you off the list of places to live.

i was wrong. and i'm sorry.

when i came crawling back to you a little more than three years ago (remember that? my utter desperation? my sense of hope? my willingness to give you another chance because ... let's be honest ... you were my only option for a change of scenery?), i found a place that made my heart flutter.

i think you know what i'm talking about. there is this night club in the center of your city that has been the catalyst for transformation to people all over the world ... including myself.

out of it pours the music of people who have a story to tell. the melody sweeps through the empty streets of downtown and into the souls of the broken.

songs that have been carried to forgotten lands starving for hope ... for something to believe in.

these songs have become letters. letters to be addressed to the people of your city, but ones that we've come to find resonate with all of humanity.

this nightclub is where a group of people gather to listen to what you are trying to say and meets with the sole purpose of having a meaningful conversation back.

this nightclub is the hub of a movement. a place where nearly every corner of the world is represented. and those representatives, myself included, spend only a few months breathing in your smog, fighting the traffic and calling your people our family before we're calling ourselves angelinos.

so, los angeles. i'm here to tell you that i get it now. i get that you were trying to tell me something all along ... that there is much more to you than what meets the eye. and i want you to know that i'm here to stay.