Always a view.

E. on the steps near one of her past residences.
Near Union, in North Beach

***

I've been wanting to share this story with you for a few days now, but other things kept interrupting me and I wasn't able to get into my writing mind long enough to tell this story. Today, it's rainy, the first rain of the season which, in the Bay Area, is enough to drive every other story off the front page because... well, because it's raining.

But because it's raining, I've had to cancel other plans and now it's that quiet, wet afternoon with the windows speckled with water and the cars swooshing by, that I can write about E.

***

E. was the first person to contact me after the article in the Chronicle came out. She briefly explained that she'd lived in San Francisco for over 40 years and had a project she wanted to talk to me about. We played a little phone and email tag over the next day.

When we finally got to talk on the phone, I heard an intelligent conversationalist on the other end of the line. Her voice was strong and a little commanding. She sounded a chipper 60 years old, not the age of 81 that she'd given me. She told me that she wanted to go around the city, and take photos of all of the places she's lived and worked for over 40 years here. We compared notes on buildings and places throughout San Francisco that we loved. We compared favorite San Francisco movie scenes. "I've lived in almost every neighborhood in the city," she explained. "And I've always had a view. The only room in my place now that doesn't have a view is the bathroom." She laughed.

I told her how excited I was to meet her and help her with her quest. She said that normally she would have taken the pictures herself, but given her health lately that would be hard to do. She wanted to make a book of photos of these homes and offices as gifts for family and friends, who have helped her so much in recent times.

"I don't want you to feel sorry for me," she said. "But I'm recovering from a brain tumor. You know, like what Ted Kennedy died of."

We made a date to meet a few days later, and start her trip down Memory Lane together.

***

E.'s apartment is lovely, with a picture perfect view of the Marina, Palace of Fine Arts and the Golden Gate Bridge. It looks exactly like a postcard view that was blown up to window size and then pasted to the wall, that's how pretty it is.

Her apartment is filled with books, art and photographs. Antiques and more books. I spied several books that I wanted to borrow, and even more that I had read. She took me around, showing me photos of her children and her grandchildren, herself as a young woman, her parents in their beautiful wedding attire and framed in gilded wooden frames that hung in her bedroom, near her bed.

Instantly I had this fantasy that E., with her lovely manicure and silver jewelry and stylish fall ensemble, was the worldly, educated grandmother that I never had. She spun tales of North Beach, and working in the cocktail bars in North Beach where she knew Miles Davis and Mort Sahl. Her brother had met Alfred Hitchcock while he was in town, filming Vertigo. Imogen Cunningham and Ruth Asawa had been neighbors. Cunningham had taken her portrait years ago, but she hadn't liked it, and had ripped it up. (I shuddered at the thought.) She pulled out books for me, books she knew I'd like, that were written about San Francisco's history. She seemed to know each of the authors. I was smitten.

We started our walking tour in Russian Hill and then North Beach, where she'd lived in several apartments and homes. We climbed hills and I took her arm to steady her. Amazed that she was able to climb these hills, albeit slowly, that winded us both. We stopped to admire the views. I took photos of the places she'd lived and she told me when she lived there, if she was married at the time, how old her children were. She told me what buildings had been torn down, what used to be where and her memory for the way the city used to be was amazing to me. At one point we encountered an 87 year old neighbor that she hadn't seen since the early 1970s. We were invited inside for a glass of water as the Blue Angels tore up the sky, practicing for Fleet Week.

The photo above is the last place we took pictures that day. A studio apartment that was only $95 a month, and the light from Alcatraz's lighthouse routinely made her bedroom glow at night. She described the sound of the foghorns and how they made her feel cozy at night. For anyone, myself included, who's lucky enough to hear the foghorns off the coast regularly, you know what it means to hear them at 3am. You don't mind it at all.

Anyway, I hope there will be more to tell about E. and that we'll be out in other places of the city soon, her health permitting. I hope she'll be a part of i live here:SF, but either way, just taking E.'s tour of San Francisco is a pleasure I won't soon forget.

The end of one thing, the beginning of another

summer's last rose

***

It is a grey, windy day. I walked over to Golden Gate Park which is positively overrun by people going to see the Tutankhamen exhibit at the de Young museum. The cars clog every sidewalk curb and jam themselves like puzzle pieces in the small intersections.

I went to the park to see what I could find. Actually, I needed to find something for a project (for lack of a better word) and then I saw this little rose, just hiding next to a curb.

I gave this blossom a story: that it was either waiting to be discovered or waiting to crumble.

Next week, K and the kids are moving to their new home. I can't even tell you how much drama there has been this week in their little lives, all of it through circumstance, and it seems like an unfair punctuation mark to a story that has been so sad, even though the move is going to happen. I just wish their last days here had been easier or that I could have done more.

And then it dawned on me that I won't be seeing these faces again like I have been, every week, for months. It feels like yet another loss, not so sad because I know that they are moving on to bigger and better things and the way they're living now is so unsustainable and difficult, but it's still a loss all the same.

I will miss them. But unlike this little rose that no one else will notice, I hope that K and the kids know that they are noticed, and just as beautiful.

The i live here: SF project...

Sometimes you have just part of an idea rattling around in your head, and then all of a sudden --whoosh! --the pieces fit together. Many thanks to ~K, namastenancy and Soad for saying the right things at the right time that tied it all together. And as always, a thank you to Brittney at Eye on Blogs, who is always so supportive in her shout outs and recognition of what I post here.

***

I can't say that I walk around like this all the time, but it happens enough of the time to know that it's not a fleeting thing. Plain and simple, I just love living in San Francisco, for all the reasons I write about in this blog, and for a thousand other reasons that I might not fully be aware of, or for reasons that just don't get written down at all.

And I keep meeting interesting, talented and fascinating souls that inspire and charm and intrigue me. Their faces and their stories make me want to meet more of them, even if our encounter is for the briefest moment, in the time it takes for me to snap their photo. Regardless of our economic concerns now, our fears and worries, I think we all appreciate a genuine human story and image.


So I'm embarking on a "real" project, the working title of said project is:

i live here: SF

This blog is a platform for whatever this larger thing turns out to be, but for right now it's photographing the people of San Francisco. The images shared here are willing collaborations between myself and those pictured because I feel that the photos I take in partnership with someone else are the ones I like the most and to which I am the most connected. The people being photographed can share their story with me, maybe something about why they live in San Francisco and what they think about it, or remain anonymous.


It is my goal to share some of the spirit and fascinating layers of this city through the eyes and visages of those who live here.

***

Because this is a participatory endeavour, you can be a part of it, if you want to. In a nutshell, if you'd like to have your photo taken for this project, or know other people who might, or can help in any way by forwarding this post, mentioning it to a friend or posting it somewhere, please do. I'd really appreciate it.

If you live in SF and want to have your photo taken, contact me (email's in the sidebar) and we can talk about it.

Or, if you don't live here, but know someone who does, someone who you think might want to share in this project, then by all means, put them in touch with me. You know where I am.

Thank you all, and be sure to check in at my other site. As things progress, I hope to have lots more to share with you there. I don't know what the final result of all of this will be but sometimes the surprise at the end is the best part.