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Painting the Town: Street Artists Bomb the Bay
One of the nice things about living in the Bay Area is that people come here. Just, you know, to visit. We’re coming up on the high season, when the streets swell with tourists, clicking their cameras...
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A Woman in the Sun
I sat in the sun, butt naked and heat dazed, my starving skin soaking up all the UV it’d been hungry for since my trip to LA. The sulfur smell of the hot springs had stopped burning my nose, and I was...
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Dancing in the Fog: Weekend Wedding Part II
Everything grey. Not the soft, floaty kind of grey, but heavy, brooding, impenetrable—like being underwater, like walking through a dream: the landscape all sand and crippled trees, windswept by...
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The Americanness of Garlic: Weekend Wedding Part III
We rode down the line, past the line, through it: the slice in the sky where the fog stops and the blue begins. The California Coast and the Central Valley: there’s more than just a fog bank that...
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Southbound
Fog so heavy it wept the dust from my windshield / what I’d carried with me, wore on me, up and over a road soggy with night— always becoming, becoming just up ahead. / So this is driving across the...
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Sunday Morning on International
Sunday morning on International Blvd. A sidewalk laced in fog, car exhaust, the sick-sweet smell seeping from panderias. Little girls in patent-leather shoes, dudes crouched and smoking and speaking in...
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Boiler Room, Angel Island
Abandoned by time but not escaped from it. Rust and debris, peeling paint and the pages of old magazines, broken glass so old its become smooth. Like some dim chamber of our hearts, we climbed into the...
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If No Man Is An Island…
Alcatraz Night Tour—wandering around the haunted empty of an old institution, relighted and relabeled, black signs with white letters. All hard lines and sparse materials—cement and steel—littered...
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The Keeper, Yuba River Character Study
Didn't take a picture of The Keeper. Though he apparently doesn't mind. So here's a Flickr photo insteadHe stood like a masthead on the wooden deck and yowled at the river. His shirt flapped open in...
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SF in 55, From PP: 10 Thoughts
Workin hardYesterday I was sitting on the electric white cushions at Blue Pumpkin, eating a sundae and streaming full episodes of the Colbert Report (hey, gotta stay informed). While it was buffering...
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