I’m in San Francisco this week for work. Staying at a very conventional Marriott downtown by Moscone. It’s not my usual digs, but it was a sudden trip, and I’ve been burned by last-minute AirBNB reservations. Sometimes you want to know there will be a guy at the desk in a well lit room to hand you your keys, and a clean bed to fall into. Cool brings risk.
There’s a small feeling of confusion/fear when sleeping in a new spot. I feel this the first night in a hotel or a new apartment. A weird foreignness—like you’ve fallen asleep on your arm, except it’s your whole brain?
Anyway, a whole lot of that this morning, amplified by having dreams which took place in summertime New York. Then, I wake up in San Francisco, in a hotel room which isn’t very me, to look out the window and see Karl the Fog and a high of 62º in July.
What is this place? Where am I?
An invitation to be in the moment
This morning we decided on a spontaneous trip to Baker Beach with our two-year-old son.
Our city by the bay is done with Summer. That summertime fog that we wake up to is no more.
Homeward bound after a month in the USA
One day-One Hour- One Minute- It will happen. It is inevitable. Except it already has.
Top 10 Things To Do In San Francisco
If you live in San Francisco, you know to avoid Eddy and Leavenworth Street... *stab*
Wrote this the day after the attacks in Paris but was reminded of it this morning when I read the news about the bombing in Turkey
In Search of Color