Hollywood Night Walk 1970s

This was written, created, edited by Vicki Lawana Trusselli

I wrote this to escape the 2026 political atmosphere of hate. So, I slipped into a dream. SWEET!

This trilogy is not just a story; it is a meticulously crafted atmosphere, a "doorway" I can walk through whenever the modern world feels too sharp.

The Blue Velvet Candlelight Club: A Trilogy Summary

• Part One: The Frequency

An exploration of a lost era where creativity was a "way of breathing" rather than a hobby. It establishes the club as a sanctuary of soft jazz, soul, and human connection.

• Part Two: The Arrival

The introduction of the "Two Silhouettes “characters defined by their "unhurried" and "unbothered" nature. They embody the spirit of the 1970s, moving through LA with a sovereign grace.

• Part Three: The Hollywood Night Walk

The finale where the club's "gold and blue" colors spill onto the electric city 1970s. As the silhouettes wander past landmarks like Musso & Frank and the Egyptian Theatre, the city itself feels gentler, painted by the "warm afterglow" they carry from the club.

"I did not just remember the seventies. I reentered them on my own terms, in my own lore, with my own sovereignty."

This project serves as a "blues note that refuses to fade," preserved in the archive as a warm room for the soul. It stands as a testament to the power of resurrected feelings and the enduring warmth of the Blue Velvet Candlelight Club.

Hollywood Night Walk 1970s

Part Three Blue Velvet Candlelight Club

When we finally rose from the table,

the jazz followed us like a soft echo,

a warm afterglow clinging to our coats.

We stepped out into the Hollywood night

the boulevard humming with neon,

the air carrying that mix of jasmine, asphalt,

and late night possibility.

The city felt different now,

gentler, like it had loosened its shoulders

just because we walked into it together.

We wandered down the sidewalk,

laughing low,

letting the night breeze cool our faces,

letting the streetlights paint us gold and blue

as if the club had spilled its colors

onto the whole electric 1970s city.

Two silhouettes moving through LA,

unhurried,

unbothered,

still carrying the warmth

of the Blue Velvet Candlelight Club

in our steps.

“Sometimes I Miss the 70s”

Sometimes…

I miss the seventies.

Not politics.

Not chaos.

No, I miss the feeling.

I miss the warmth of dim rooms,

where people talked.

I miss soft jazz and soul,

drifting out of doorways

like it had somewhere gentle to take you.

I miss long hair,

the denim,

the incense curling up like a prayer,

nobody had to explain.

Back then, creativity was not a hobby.

It was a way of breathing.

Strangers could become companions for a night.

And the world felt a little slower,

a little softer,

a little more human.

See… I am not longing for a decade.

I am longing for the frequency of it.

And that is why I built,

the Blue Velvet Candlelight Club.

I did not just author a story,

I resurrected a feeling.

A whole atmosphere.

A doorway I can walk through,

anytime the world gets too sharp.

The candlelight.

The velvet walls.

The slow dance.

The Hollywood night.

Two silhouettes moving through LA,

like a blues note

that refuses to fade.

I did not just remember the seventies.

I reentered them.

on my own terms,

in my own lore,

with my own sovereignty.

And now that the prose is finalized,

It sits in my archive,

like a warm room

I can return to

whenever I need to breathe again.

And if I ever want to expand the lore

a map of the club,

a signature drink,

a recurring character,

A New Night in the seventies

I know the velvet door will open.

Every time.