alfred hitchcock.

last weekend, i drove to san francisco. it was the first time i had been to the city in over twelve years. isn't it funny the way that your memory of a place can alter so much over time? when i visited as a child, the notion of beatniks or gay rights or hyphy music was as foreign as my father's accent. san francisco didn't mean any of these things to me. it was just a city with a lot of hills.

this time, i crossed the bay bridge with a purpose. i thought, 'this city is a mecca of art. enter for inspiration.' i sat in union square and watched korean boys jump double dutch. i spoke to the sea lions on pier 39. i licked coconut cream from my fingers at fisherman's warf. i climbed telegraph hill and dreamed of flying off to the golden gate. and through it all i struggled with an extreme case of vertigo.

on the 12th floor of my friends apartment in the middle of the financial district, my head spun. i peered over the railing, the drop made my stomach lurch. to raise my eyes and find i was on top of the lowest building made my ankles quiver. my search for inspiration was lost in a cloud of dizziness. my weekend was as foggy as the bay at dawn in a december.

when i returned home, i found my camera to be filled with photos that were off balanced. is this because of my shakey hands or my subconscious attempt to straighten my insides out?










either way, i don't think i'll be returning to san francisco soon. as pretty as the city is, the vertigo was too much. i like to keep my stomach settled since my mind never is.