I am, at this moment, sitting in the dark. I have turned off my lights in observance of the "black-out" event to stave off global warming.Sadly, when I looked out the window I observed that most of my neighbors still have their lights on. Is it that I live in an ethnic neighborhood that is predominantly Hispanic? Nope. I noticed that all the yuppies who live in Bernal Heights have their lights on too. Apparently the event worked better in Sidney, Australia last year.
So.... I have a blog. I'm am now indoctrinated in the blogosphere. What to write about? Actually, what I think I want to write about is my amazing neighborhood. I've seen it all, including someone getting shot right in front of my house two weeks ago. The place is plagued with problems, nevertheless, I revel in it's eccentricities. I have been doing watercolors of the supermarket carts that them homeless people in my neighborhood carry around and thought this might be a good place to post them. People often leave furniture and mattresses in the streets (I have some interesting photos of those. In fact, I love the texture of the neighborhood, the poster-covered walls, the peeling paint, the odd detritus spewed about. Visually, you can't beat this neighborhood. Oh, I forgot to say where it is. It's the Mission district, 25th and Shotwell Street in San Francisco.
Ok. To illustrate how great my neighborhood is, here are a few photos that were taken during a typical afternoon when we walked a few blocks down to get chinese food. You can see me in the photo on the right holding my camera up to take a picutre in the mirror.
Nextdoor to the restaurant is this beautiful window. Inside, people are playing cards:
This is a new bar:
Then, on are way home we run into a procession of people bearing poles with a draped blanket and singing:
The Mission district in cloaked in the inexplicable encounter, the odd juxtoposition, and glimpses of the visual sublime.