…and what does that mean? Let’s start with the impossible job I mentioned in a previous post. Yesterday I was at work when I saw through my office door the site nurse on the move with her vitals equipment. I emerged to discover one of the staff behind closed doors in an office being treated by said nurse and I moved towards the lobby, towards … Continue reading Meeting darkness with vulnerability…
It’s Christmas day. I feel alright, more or less, sitting in my apartment in the Tenderloin, San Francisco. My partner, parents and most of my friends are in the Midwest so I’m out here alone, but that’s okay. I think Christmas for me is mostly a non-issue, unavoidable but at the same time not really resonating no matter how much I used to enjoy the … Continue reading It’s Christmas…
It’s 3:30 am as I write this and in five hours I’ll be on a flight to Las Vegas. It’s a stupid city, in a desert, using too much water and too much power and too much consciousness in a lack of consciousness sort of way, but I always have a good time. I’ll be meeting my partner there, who is flying in from Chicago … Continue reading Four days in Las Vegas…
…and it has been for a long time. Walking to the grocery store this morning up Hyde Street, and I glanced up at the distinct San Francisco architecture, bay windows and whatnot and crossing Post, looked West towards Polk Street and I had this realization: shit, none of this means anything to me right now. I stopped on the corner and thought about everything I … Continue reading Shit, it is depression…
I moved back to San Francisco 8 months ago, a long debated change influenced by past memories, thoughts of meaning, the pandemic lock downs and a growing dissatisfaction with a repetitive, routine Chicago. This relocation was supposed to be a solution, get me back to doing the work I loved in an environment I related to where I could once again, begin to see my … Continue reading Back in San Francisco…
“There’s a garden on the bay side of Telegraph Hill called the Filbert Steps, and it runs down from the heights of Coit Tower to Levi Plaza right across from San Francisco Bay. They used to make Levis in San Francisco. They used to make a lot of things here. They used to plan for large, public gardens like the Steps, a once beautiful scene … Continue reading You Can’t Heal – 6
The inauguration is the day after tomorrow. 20,000 National Guard soldiers in DC. Articles today talked about screening being done to ensure none of these men or women have violence on their minds and are committed to peaceful transition of power. Covid19 continues to rage across the country and the world while some would still argue about the efficacy and liberty of wearing masks. Everyone … Continue reading You Can’t Heal – 5
I had a conversation yesterday with my partner in the little house we bought in the Midwest where we discussed concepts of home, and how though this little house was my home, my other was in San Francisco. We’ve had this discussion before, but there was a lot more weight behind it this time. We’ve lived cross country from each other in the past, and … Continue reading You Can’t Heal – 2
I was standing outside the Converse All Star Store on Market Street in San Francisco when it became clear to me it was again, time to leave this city. The sign in the store window yelled, “SHOES ARE BORING! WEAR SNEAKERS!” in large, capitalized letters and behind this sign stood an equally loud, colorful scream of red sneakers, white sneakers and blue, all arranged on … Continue reading On Leaving San Francisco…Converse All Stars, High Rents and the Fillmore Jazz Fest
I saw Ani DiFranco two nights ago at the Fillmore in San Francisco…great show, some songs I’d never heard performed before like “School Night” or “Overlap,” and she was in fine form, striking the guitar so hard during “Napoleon” or “Shameless,” you’d think it might break, and performing new songs that thanks to Youtube, I knew by name already, “Careless Words,” “Genie,” and more…and none … Continue reading Reflecting on a show: Ani Difranco…
Drake Toulouse: Photography and Words 