Forrest Lawn is one of the most famous of them all. It's in LA, what do ya' want? Michael Jackson is buried here.
A cemetery is more beautiful than a park, more manicured and much quieter. Forrest Lawn, though, is so incredibly gorgeous. I've been all around it, seeing it every single day since I've been here and finally I went inside. There's an information gate at the front. I asked her about the Goya show up in the museum. Unfortunately she didn't even seem to know the show is over but went on to explain to me that bikes are not allowed in the park.
I rode up the hill anyway. First I stopped off, half way up the mountain at the mausoleum to see the Last Supper stained glass. It was a show. It was in a building full of dead bodies and the soundtrack coming from presentation speakers over the audience seating area was of a voice, obviously from a different era. His timbre, and expression and sales pitch relayed a perfect story of Jesus and Leonardo and this latest creation of the legendary event. No photos please.
There was definitely a cornball, roadside attraction to it, but to recap: dead people. We were surrounded by them. Them and marble. Lots of marble.
The pretty girl at the ornately decorated booth in the front was keen to let me know no admittance after 4 o'clock. It was free. I enjoyed it for the oddness of it all. I'll be back. I'm definitely going to sneak some pictures. Damn respectability! Michael Jackson lays to rest here!
So yeah, inside that, really, quite beautiful medieval building, it was beefcake Americana posing as culture with dimming lights and surround sound.
The stage where MJ's funeral presentation happened was still there, astroturf with real flowers and notes from Japanese kids with photos and others saying adios to the King of Pop. I can't imagine this place the day that happened. The view is pretty ideal and pleasant. I rode on.
Strangely enough I went to the place to make a video for the museum where I want to live for a month. They wanted me to tell them why I'm the right man for the job and after lots of thought, I decided this cemetery would be the best place to get some clean footage of me not cluttered with traffic noise or city hubbub. Glad I came here this day. It's the best real estate for miles. The living should be jealous.
I rode on up to the top where the giant, I mean giant lit cross is. It's atop a large white building that I'm still not sure what it's used for but the balcony to the place overlooks Glendale and beyond and has white marble statues and it's all just so damn lovely. The museum is there too, next door. It did not house Goya anymore but the bronze collection was kind of nice though packed in too tightly. There was a classic painting by Bouguereau but I didn't get to really look because it was almost closing time. No Goya. I buzzed through and there was an Italian sculptor who's work, twice stopped me in my tracks. Wish I could remember his name. He did animals.
The last place on the grounds that I lingered was the Church of the Recessional. The light filtered into this small structure's gardens. Walls sealed the courtyard and Rudyard Kipling's poem about good painters going to heaven put me in a pristine mood. I love how my bike takes me intimately to these places. I love LA. I REALLY loved the ride down the mountain. I must go back to this cemetery many times over.
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