The Voyeur's Walk

“What’s in store for me in the direction I don’t take?” ~ Jack Kerouac

***

I'm going to try to capture a little of the magic I felt last night here, and I'm not really sure if I can do it. It might have been one of those times where you just had to be there, which is why I use the photos, to add something when words fail me.

But I think it's only fair to say that in part I take these walks with you in mind.

Yes, you. For those of you who I know a little or a lot, I think of you when I'm out wandering around. I think what julochka might notice, or what Tom would think was cool, or what would make Christina happy. I just do. I guess I travel with a bunch of you in spirit.

A spirit tour of San Francisco.

***

At sunset, the air was crisp and froze your lungs a little, but in a way that feels wonderful because all of a sudden you realize that you have lungs (a good thing). The air in San Francisco always feels clean. You can take big deep breaths and sometimes smell the salt in the air, from the ocean or the stronger smell of the water of the bay. It was a bit chilly, but the thing about San Francisco is that if you're cold, just head for a hill. In a moment or two, you'll forget all about being cold.

So that's what I did.

***

I had no real destination, except that maybe I would end up at City Lights Books, for Gabby.

This was my first guidepost, my turn signal, my directional: the Transamerica Pyramid.

I'm not really a huge fan of this particular building, but when it's lit up like a candle as it was here, how could you not be drawn to it? (For the record, I did not alter this photo in any way. This is exactly how it glowed in the sunset's light.)

On my way, the Why Building stopped me in my tracks. What a discovery.
Why was I going where I was going? Why did I choose that particular route?

And then I knew.

Below the level of the street was an open door. I don't know if you're like me but if you see an open door, you have to peek inside. I think I'm worse now that I have a camera. I'm a snoop.

But I'm still shy so I don't trespass.

Inside the basement, I could see intriguing sculptures sitting on sawhorses. I couldn't see anyone, and just as I was getting ready to take a photo, a man's voice called out, "It's okay if you want to take a picture."

I froze. Il flagrante delicto. Caught in the act.

A tall, thin man with dirty hands, hair standing on end as if he kept running his hands through it, came to the door. He looked like softer version of Tony Bourdain, minus the attitude.

He invited me into his atelier, his studio.

In amongst the wooden planks, the walls were covered with the most beautiful painted canvases. Each one, a still life or portrait, was stunning. I couldn't believe my eyes.


We talked a little, and even though he said I could take pictures, I still felt shy.

He was carrying sculptures around and setting them on dollies.

All of a sudden, I asked if I could take a picture of his hands. I felt so forward and it embarrassed me. I had to explain that I like taking photos of hands. Hands interest me, they fascinate me, especially if they are doing something.

He just smiled. For some reason, I got the feeling that anything I wanted to do there was fine with him.

So I took a bunch of photos.

As I was leaving, I promised to give him some prints of the photos I'd taken.
He looked so thrilled. It was an amazing moment.

As he grasped my hand to shake it in thanks, he was holding my hand as if it was the most treasured thing in the world, or it was a delicate flower. I can't describe the sensation. I almost cried.

It's not everyday that you feel like you've made a person really really happy.

***

And then it was time to get back to my mission, to the bookstore.

You can walk through Chinatown to North Beach, where City Lights Books resides proudly on Columbus. There is an intersection of cultures, where the shabby yet lovely buildings of Chinatown meet the Italian neighborhood of North Beach. That fascinates me. In one step you jump from China to Italy. I love it.

City Lights Books is not just a bookstore.

You feel that it's truly part of the city, in every step you take.

I don't know much of anything about the Beat Generation, but even without reading their books and poems, you can feel what they were all about just by being in this store.

So I took these images so you could feel it too.

Upstairs in the poetry room, I caught my reflection in the window. Before me were the lights of the city, and behind me, the rows of books filled with lifetimes' worth of poetry and plays.

This store has little nooks and crannies, just like a good bookstore should.

I didn't buy anything this time. I was just there to be there, and that was more than enough.

***

And then, one last flourish to end the Spirit Tour.

On the corner, at Columbus and Broadway, there were glowing things suspended in the air.

At first I couldn't tell what they were. As I walked towards them, I could see they were books. Glowing books to illuminate the night.

Honestly, my heart leapt. It was so pretty. You would have loved it.
(In this photo, you might be able to make out the Transamerica Pyramid again.)

And if that wasn't enough, beautiful words appeared under my feet.

I can't make this stuff up.

This is San Francisco. And this is why I love it so.
And wish you could be here too.

***

So that was my little excursion.
Again, I tried to share the feeling of it more than the facts, and I hope that came across. Thanks for coming with me.

;-)