A New Home
Arrived in San Francisco on Wednesday and landed in a big, old house that used to be a commune owned by my friend who died last year. It's been sitting empty for two years. I'm sitting in the room where she used to run her meditation circle. She was the only person I've ever met who talked about and practiced a spiritual path that made any sense to me. I can imagine her sitting in front of the big diamond-shaped window saying true, kind, and bullshit-free things.
We have many many boxes packed too hurriedly full of weird odds and ends. We are picking up some more boxes in Santa Cruz tomorrow.
We have a lot of space and a lot of futons -- ours and others. Perhaps the whole place will be one cozy bed after another.
I went on a walk with the baby this morning and we found every treat a human like me could possibly want within a couple block radius -- pastries, coffee, books, sushi. All the people I passed had on their city faces -- don't look at each other, walk fast, for god's sake don't smile at anyone. I'm used to that in downtown Seattle, but not in the quiet neighborhood I've lived in for years where everyone from the toughies to the grandmas are chatty Cathys. This is a much bigger city than I've ever lived in. Yesterday a woman was napping on an abandoned mattress outside our place. Again, I'm used to that, but just not so close up.
San Francisco is beautiful in its jumbled architecture and murals around every corner way. It seems infinitely explorable, and like I could go on a walk every morning and always get lost and then find some secret spot. It's hard to imagine it feeling known.
We live about five blocks from Borderland Books, an SF bookstore that is an amazing place. I plan on going to so many readings there. We live about three blocks from the best burritos on earth. I plan on eating there ridiculously often. We live not so far from the wild parrot flock. I plan on feeding them nuts.
We have many many boxes packed too hurriedly full of weird odds and ends. We are picking up some more boxes in Santa Cruz tomorrow.
We have a lot of space and a lot of futons -- ours and others. Perhaps the whole place will be one cozy bed after another.
I went on a walk with the baby this morning and we found every treat a human like me could possibly want within a couple block radius -- pastries, coffee, books, sushi. All the people I passed had on their city faces -- don't look at each other, walk fast, for god's sake don't smile at anyone. I'm used to that in downtown Seattle, but not in the quiet neighborhood I've lived in for years where everyone from the toughies to the grandmas are chatty Cathys. This is a much bigger city than I've ever lived in. Yesterday a woman was napping on an abandoned mattress outside our place. Again, I'm used to that, but just not so close up.
San Francisco is beautiful in its jumbled architecture and murals around every corner way. It seems infinitely explorable, and like I could go on a walk every morning and always get lost and then find some secret spot. It's hard to imagine it feeling known.
We live about five blocks from Borderland Books, an SF bookstore that is an amazing place. I plan on going to so many readings there. We live about three blocks from the best burritos on earth. I plan on eating there ridiculously often. We live not so far from the wild parrot flock. I plan on feeding them nuts.