Growing up in Cathedral City, California, I was surrounded in dust storms, whirlwinds of sand, empty shopping centers with the few mom and pop restaurants standing next to dollar tree outlets that compete against each from across the street, and the only water source available are hot spas disguised as backyard pools until you put ice in them.

Laguna Beach serves as the polar oppositeof my upbringing, and I always wondered if it appeared as it once did on tv in the early 2000s: everyone at the beach, wealthy residents, modern architecture, predominately white, and appearing as the real Orange County, the picture-perfect city?

Who inhabits this city 20 years after its initial tv premiere, and does the city landscape match its tv presence? In a city known for its glamour, are there not moments of wealth disparity, standout individuals, or littering?

From Frosty the Snowman praying in the sand to the esteemed Rivian theatre dealership showcase, this place is more bizarre than I could have imagined. The historic Rivian South Coast Theatre sits on main street facing the Pacific Ocean, with a large open single room of a two-story building, housing both theater seats and two Rivian cars behind them, showcased for advertising as you enjoy your feature film, and can leave in a featured car. It's as if I came looking for an answer, and the city chose to mock my imagination as the response.

Around the corner of each street, I wonder if I will find residents flaunting their wealth or if I will find a more relatablemoment like affording a single tank of gas to get from point A to point A and a half. As I peer into the lives of those who peruse the city landscape, I'm left asking, am I shaping these moments to contrive a bias of my idealism of the city or am I documenting the reality that transpires in front of my lens? Is Laguna Beach the ittown for orange county visitors, or is it just another painted fantasy in the form of television, advertisements, and scenic photographs?