San Fransico
A long weekend in San Fransisco, visiting Chuck and Erica, married, employed, and doing very well in the middle of their lives. Their tiny backyard was a botanical splendour, orchids and diverse exotics love the winter there.
It was the best of cities, it was the worst of cities. lots of artsy peace signs, community gardens, eccentric geniusii. more meth junkies than i've seen anywhere, more bdsm props than new orleans, and $30 brunches. Erica says "exchange your currency at the border". even with the theoretical critical mass of talent, i still don't understand how super-expensive cities can survive a globalized economy. But while california's budget gap far exceeds michigan's, the visible woe is clearly less. and they have a michigan ghetto, much like NYC. so chuck and erica have some company. would i be happier out there? could i run a business with triple the overhead? maybe not.
apparently SF clears out it's weird people during burning man, and these also put on a local 'maker fair' of cool and sometimes functional sculpture. i guess my issue is the substance therein. 'full of sound and fury and signifying nothing' but then, meaning gets harder to communicate in proportion to abstraction. the karma of commercial art is that it means more to many, different from personal art with its therapeutic benefits. we had a good talk on this point. (If in time I should actually convince some art committee to rip down their abstract steel turd and replace it with representational or preraphaelite sculpture, i do expect them to call me a nazi.)
the santaria stores were neat to visit, they do real practice there. and the mexican cult of death has it's place, too. yes, the demographic tide proceeds on schedule.
surfing! a rough sport for the clueless, and i was asked to leave, being a hazard to the other surfers. yes, i could have whacked the old geezer on the head with my surfboard, but Chuck my host does not like such rowdy cultural exchanges, with good reason. Chinatown was too huge for our little visit, buddhas by the bucketfull, live turtles and eels, dried gizzards, squid, crocogator spleens etc. Some high end contemporary art dealers with too many gross chihuly spin-off chandeliers and all the worst bronzes from colorado, though a nice Napoleonesque table entirely surfaced in lapis ($35K) The original hippies have long since sold out or burned out, but the sell outs have left quite a mark upon it. Casual fridays can mean barefoot.
It was the best of cities, it was the worst of cities. lots of artsy peace signs, community gardens, eccentric geniusii. more meth junkies than i've seen anywhere, more bdsm props than new orleans, and $30 brunches. Erica says "exchange your currency at the border". even with the theoretical critical mass of talent, i still don't understand how super-expensive cities can survive a globalized economy. But while california's budget gap far exceeds michigan's, the visible woe is clearly less. and they have a michigan ghetto, much like NYC. so chuck and erica have some company. would i be happier out there? could i run a business with triple the overhead? maybe not.
apparently SF clears out it's weird people during burning man, and these also put on a local 'maker fair' of cool and sometimes functional sculpture. i guess my issue is the substance therein. 'full of sound and fury and signifying nothing' but then, meaning gets harder to communicate in proportion to abstraction. the karma of commercial art is that it means more to many, different from personal art with its therapeutic benefits. we had a good talk on this point. (If in time I should actually convince some art committee to rip down their abstract steel turd and replace it with representational or preraphaelite sculpture, i do expect them to call me a nazi.)
the santaria stores were neat to visit, they do real practice there. and the mexican cult of death has it's place, too. yes, the demographic tide proceeds on schedule.
surfing! a rough sport for the clueless, and i was asked to leave, being a hazard to the other surfers. yes, i could have whacked the old geezer on the head with my surfboard, but Chuck my host does not like such rowdy cultural exchanges, with good reason. Chinatown was too huge for our little visit, buddhas by the bucketfull, live turtles and eels, dried gizzards, squid, crocogator spleens etc. Some high end contemporary art dealers with too many gross chihuly spin-off chandeliers and all the worst bronzes from colorado, though a nice Napoleonesque table entirely surfaced in lapis ($35K) The original hippies have long since sold out or burned out, but the sell outs have left quite a mark upon it. Casual fridays can mean barefoot.