"Cities are like gentlemen, they are born, not made. You are either a city, or you are not, size has nothing to do with it. I bet San Francisco was a city from the very first time it had a dozen settlers.” -Will Rogers
Growing up the preference was for San Francisco, suppose until a parents visit during the big quake of of '89 a day before an 8th birthday shook out such dreams. Daring that 10 years later Manhattan became home. Whenever SF transplants make the move to NY I wonder.. why have they left? Without much explanation the reason is understood and such conversations solidify where these chips have landed. However, the 'left coast' holds a dear place in many of our hearts. Mind that ground beneath our feet...
Ponds & Streams by Wayne Thiebaud
This weekend took us 70 miles north of San Francisco to Bodega Bay. A small town Alfred Hitchcock put on the map for filming 'The Birds', being more of a Vertigo kind of girl kamikaze crows are too outlandish for my likes, but the quiet fog was unsettiling. Remaining attentive to the birds they payed us no mind and we went along our way identifying the forget-me-not, dill and fushia flowers.
A nice wedding weekend it was, but from it all the greatest enjoyment was driving across the Golden Gate Bridge and noticing its color of International Orange Red, a flash of my father and understanding as to why he chose to paint 71000 square feet of his 'Process Museum' in this famed reddish sienna color. I can see it out there burning in the desert sun I left.
*Previous posts from San Francisco HERE