Tuesday, July 13, 2010
I figured out the secret of San Francisco.
This is no New York.
Ok- you're thinking "duh" but it's not just different. It's opposite.
In New York the heat is a clingy lover and everyone comes into the city to visit for the weekend.
It is the when, where, & why.
In SF you gotta track down sunshine one-night stands like it's last call at a queer party.
You gotta leave, every chance you get and spend time away from SF's very on 2nd ozone layer.
As you drive away, the city and the wet fog that hangs like dew on all it's flower-folk becomes just an impenetrable mist.
You go to Oakland, Marin, Santa Cruz, Portland, Salem, LA, Las Vegas, Arizona.
You just go.
You shed layers.
You smile some.
You dance in the grass.
You throw some glitter on it.
You take the california one up to fancy cheeses and lots of wine and greens from a farm and homemade pies and secret swimming holes.
When you return, all but the bottom of the bridge is covered in gray.
Now you see it,
now you don't.
(Note: many of these photos are from a party at a wonderful queer land project in Marin called Raven's Crossing.)