While another juvenile, "coming of age" autobiographical chapbook is one of the last things the world really needs - where the author is convinced that they are a special one-of-kind snowflake who's spoiled, cry-for-help story is somehow unique - at least Gabriel Hart spared us all by waiting till he was almost forty-years old before he wrote his first one.
In "Cinema of Life" musician, writer, and L.A. expatriate Hart briefly chronicles the severing of his own plot in that sinister city with a permanent evacuation to the high desert, concluding with a rare deep breath of high-pressure flatulence that can only be released when one turns himself this far inside-out.