I imagined my exposure spreading like a liquid stain across the back of my jet black jacket. Pacific Heights is the kind of neighborhood where police are called without hesitation when a man in a dark coat is climbing a fence onto private property at night. The feeling of exposure was exhilarating in a familiar way but obscured by time and layers of blurry memories. That tasty reckless tingle which skips its way up your spine and shivers across your scalp in a chemical wave maniacally shaking each hair follicle as it washes along the skin. I had been waiting 2 weeks, since the first camera-less time I saw this image, to capture it. I knew I would be taking the risk of looking undignified, and childish if a squad car rolled up and I was there on the fence, one pant leg caught comically in the pointed top of a fence post.
This type of thrill wouldn’t even have registered as exciting to me in the past. On the scale of adrenaline rushes that I had created, this barely infractionary trespass was laughably mundane but it held me under its weight and I felt obligated to it.
Just a half hour before, at a dinner party, amidst a group of friends, people who I knew well but not intimately, I had, in a similar way, left myself emotionally exposed and so twice in one night I had decided to dismiss just a little of the heavy layer of protective insulating ash that I had agreeably let settle over me recently.
At dinner, without permission, I had taken over the conversation, and vibe, of the party by launching into a spirited account of the current standing of my messy divorce and custody proceedings. Pretty much turning on the tap for a full on dinner party cold shower. My friends listened respectfully of course as they gently arranged their silverware or nodded their gracious willingness to stay engaged as I rambled on, fueled by the wine and months of pent up resentment. A table full of bobbing heads and teetering silverware.
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