Tag Archives: SF

Photo Friday: Inner Sunset, SF



I was wandering around the Inner Sunset last June, when I stumbled upon this, a beautiful piece of art by Alphonzo Solorzano It was prominently displayed in the window of a small business just off Judah and framed by heavy, deep blue curtains.

But this moment and the visual stayed with me: ‘hurdling’ with a sense of urgency, a flurry of tremendous activity covering vast distances like the Pacific. I’ve spent countless hours searching the waves for signs, for comfort, for change. I’ve been in, on, under and above it. But most of all, I need to be near it. My various current ‘lives’ are connected by an ocean.

Whilst I see me in the physical reflection of the photo, it’s the words that echo the way I live my life — bouncing between two worlds. Hurdling, if you will. Those words for me also encompass all that I experience: hurt, happiness, homesickness, alienation, joy. Hurdling with a fearlessness masking the anxiety of fear, but it’s a hurdle I will always take for the adventurous spirit trumps inertia.

I’m hurdling like the ocean towards my life

Grey and Red

It’s all head-down-bum-up at the moment as I finish my classes. I have an obscene amount of work to achieve in a very short amount of time, and my technique at procrastinating is second to none. As you can see!


I wanted to share this pic of a cute little place I stumbled across on a walk around SF a few weeks ago. It’s tucked up a little alleyway on Nob Hill, and looked so inviting with the red door, grey paint, white trim and red geraniums outside.

Well, must get back to it! See you on the flip side.

Doing Backflips in San Francisco

Last week, we shook off the minus double digits of the Chicago winter in favour of sunny, clear 23C in San Francisco.  We spent some time wandering my old ‘hood. A few things had changed, but not much.

San Francisco is still a place that makes my heart do backflips. It possesses a natural beauty, but there’s much more to the city than a bunch of buildings on a peninsular surrounded by water. There’s a vibe, a magnetic field. I feel real there. I feel like me.

RR SF v3

 “San Francisco itself is art, above all literary art. Every block is a short story, every hill a novel. Every home a poem, every dweller within immortal. That is the whole truth.”
– William Saroyan

SF is still my favourite city in the world. I’ve found nothing else that compares.

Introducing our new short film — ‘Neon San Francisco: SFO’

Here’s the next installment in our ‘Neon San Francisco’ series called ‘SFO’. It’s three minutes and fourteen seconds of love for one of our favourite airports in the world.

Continue reading

… And then we moved to Chicago

A few weeks ago, the American and I decided on a plan of action for the next few months: We were going to spend the rest of the summer (and perhaps a little longer) in Chicago.

“Why Chicago?” everyone asked.
“Why not?” I responded.

Continue reading

On Seeing a Plane Crash at SFO

The American has always been a total aviation buff. Our laptop screen savers are photos of planes. We voluntarily spend time in and around airports to watch the planes coming and going. He can spot them and tell me the make, model, airline and probable destination of the plane. At altitude. While the plane is making a contrail. It’s impressive.

Today was the American’s 30-somethingth birthday. And 30-something aviation buffs (and those also making a short film about SFO) spend their birthday photographing planes at SFO.


On the drive over there, we saw something was not right. There was what looked like fog surrounding the airport. And there were no planes buzzing us as we peaked the San Mateo Bridge. Odd. Within moments, we turned onto on Bayshore. And before us was the remnants of a Boeing 777ER on runway 28L. Alight.

We looked at each other. WHAT THE HELL?!?! Is this real?

The California Highway Patrol and San Mateo County Sheriffs were in the process of closing down the road and the parking lots along Bayshore. The area was a “crime scene”. We parked the car and jumped out. We were in shock — the American didn’t even bother locking the doors. Grabbing the camera, we darted to the other side of the pathway for a better vantage point.

DSC_0036aThe Asiana 777 was broken, having lost its tail at the end of the runway. The tail section came to rest right next to a United 747, awaiting takeoff. I could only imagine the horror of the passengers who had to witness the entire event from their windows: the impact, the fuselage careening out of control, passengers darting everywhere, the flames engulfing what was left. I can only imagine the horror.

DSC_0017aWe, too, watched the harrowing scene unfold in front of us, but from the relative safety of the shoreline. I wanted, needed to know everyone was out of the plane and that they were all okay and accounted for. I wanted the universe to tell me that every single one of them on the plane would be able to collapse into the arms of their loved ones, or to call their families and tell them, “I’m okay, I’m alive”. I felt helpless, but all I could do was watch.

DSC_0037bDSC_0045aWe could see the fire, medical, and other support services arrive. They battled the blaze, helped the survivors, and searched for those potentially missing. The buses ferried the survivors back to the terminals. The fire raged persistently inside the fuselage — we could even see it through the windows.

DSC_0068aDSC_0071aIt was so sad hearing two three people were killed in this crash (and more than a dozen suffering permanent injuries such as severed spinal cords). My heart goes out to those families who won’t be getting that phone call, or the opportunity to squeeze them so tight it hurts.

In time, we will learn what really happened to Asiana flight #214. But in the meantime, I will take this opportunity to radiate love and appreciate those around me. I send my thoughts and love out to those who are dealing with the trauma of this surreal day.