Traffic flows freely. We speak a little about my journey, about the organization of my stay, of the few lectures I'll give at the U.C.L.A. Profr. C. comes from Switzerland. He speaks with a strange accent, half Californian, half Waldensian, obviously very happy to be here and to have exchanged his cable car tickets for an unlimited Green Card in a huge cinema house. Along the motorway, always the same low constructions with neither charm nor perspectives.
Nothing delights the eye nor startles it, but the gigantism of ad posters.
Here nothing is worth seeing. My candid hopes are however not disappointed without my knowing quite well why, belief imposes itself that this very ordinariness has some meaning. It strikes right. Somewhere it's probably justified. A strange feeling of space and openness goes along with it and dismisses it.