I was out in the Backside Balcony, of the 2nd Floor, with my phone, while I waited for someone, who I had come across to meet, shelling out a sum of Rs.600 via Cab,for a meeting that lasted 10 minutes precisely. Reaching at 11, and leaving by 2, with a wait for more than hour. There was a person who was playing some game on his cellphone, waiting like me, killing time. With a little discussion over several issues, trying to communicate and kill out the torturous time, that we both waited for. It was quite friendly of him in a humble way to communicate.
Not keen on to playing games, & feeling sleepy at the same time, because I had not slept the whole night. I felt, if I had to sit there on the chair, I would certainly doze off, and beside the fact that the cab driver was waiting, with no clue to how much more time would it take. For once it came to my mind to flee away from there, but then I thought I had anyway to pay, so rather sit there and do what I came for.I thought to make it a little worthy of time & creativity. Now trying to kill my time, clicking few pictures.
I stood on the strange land, with a strange surrounding. Looking at the chores of few strange faces cleaning there house with the broom in hand, the other one sorting out the garden, and a guy standing on the water tank in his half pants, trying to do something. I wanted to peak on to what was exactly happening out there, I tried gathering myself up closer to the edge of the boundary walls of the balcony, and found that he was cleaning the water tank, mugging out all the dirty water out of it ,splashing it out of the tank. I did saw him noticing me, noticing him, but I kind of stood there imitating as I was busy with my cell, and cared nothing whatsoever. Later to my surprise, after like 15 minutes or so, when I saw, another guy coming out of the water tank, it was hilariously surprising, questioning myself on what on the earth was he doing inside the water tank.Later when these two men came off the tank, they took a bath, and fled away, there i realized I had no entertainment left to entertain me anymore, and with screeching heat on my head, I decided to come inside.
I wish I could have made a video of the same, and clicked some pics,but I did not, could not. I did not wanted to act strange pointing my phone on strange faces, in a strange way, that would leave them clueless on to what I was up to.. I certainly did not wanted to give them any ideas. - Anonymous
We all have our part of stories.
Why can't everyone fall in love like I do? Why cant there be just profound fondness or willingness to get close or carried away without no inhibitions with our so called infatuatedly habituated willingness of making out. Why won't we, or why we couldn’t relate in the same way. Why there had to be reasons so reluctant, that killed everything completely, putting an end to it even before it started. Why won't we even give it a try & why every time it had to turn so fake or artificial, Why do we have to hide? Why aren't people so openly responsive enough to give it a considerable thoughtfulness.
Why was it so difficult?
"A good intention clothes itself with power(never wear masks) - that sure would have been a powerful intention, intentionally or unintentional.- Now how powerful, needs to be figured out. But what if someone likes undressing much more then being clothed?"
Everything seemed pretty much straight forward & easy going, without any agitations or masks & no sign of a camouflaged pretentious mind. Something told me, there was a friend or a friend to be, or even more. We had this age gap between us, but did not felt if there was any. It was good to have someone staying up close-by. You could probably end up crying your heart out or sharing secrets & being happy go lucky together.
I was so overwhelmed by a yes, when I asked - I would want you to stay tonight. I met someone after a days conversation. Just the thought of meeting someone, & having someone staying over. had brought in a gamut of something pleasant into me & I was joyous & excited. It was drizzling outside as if it was in the mood. In that time frame, we were carried a little, enjoying the music & having couple of drinks(wine & whiskey) after finishing up the leftover food - we were still sober. Tried pulling all the conversational strings over & over, while we talked for a while before we hit the bed.
“Sharing a bed, was not a phrase just limited to a sexual parameter, but it was more of a comfort zone”
We slept afar from each-other. Though I had intentionally not made it clear that I was possibly attracted towards this person. I was reluctant & possibly did not make any advances of any kind in the darkness, unsure about how would the other person react. I wasn't sure about anything else either, but all I knew was, that I did not wanted us to sleep. The other side was reserved, shy or unsure or probably had other agendas. I on the other hand was willing to hug, hold, touch but kept looking at those closed eyes, staring at the face.
With a glare of light that’s all which I possibly could get from my phone, looking at the sleeping posture by means of indirect light. Despite being anxiously excited to see as much of the naked flesh that I could probably see though, The little that I saw, made me more curious and I rather fell in love and fondness with the clothed and wrapped up soul, that slept like a baby next to me. Something told me, the one who laid next to me wasn't having a sound sleep either.
Though I was much keen to go closer & cuddle but I refrained myself. I still made little effort while I managed to hold, hug or possibly kiss, feel or touch by gestures - possibly loving. (with no sexual misinterpretation), seeking emotional comfort & as little as physical endurance that I was craving for & wanted little attention and love in return. I was a human soul with longing that wanted to run down deep getting intimately involved. Sex was not on my mind & all I wanted was to ease out all that I could there & then in that darkness of night. I was little sleepy & at the same time sleepless & awaken wanting to somehow get close & intimate, I hadn't thought that there could be a day, when we could possibly end up together on the same bed.
"Nothing else other then my soul which had a hard on - irrespective of anything or nothing, there it could shag it self off at that very moment.”
Night had passed by. We had a cup of tea in the morning. I guess I had not been a pretty good host, could have been better. I am sorry if I could not be thoughtful about a hungry stomach(guest), while I had a hungry heart. There was not much to offer today, maybe if there was a next time, It might give me a clear indication - food for thought & a food for heart. We could have stayed more & longer, if only I did not had any plans. As much as I would have wanted to hug, shook hands or kiss, while I bid goodbye leaving thee, helping to catch a richksaw puller.
I had intimated you later about how I made friendly & romantic gestures in the night. I am not sure if you felt & witnessed them while you slept. - Anonymous
I have a very small number of things to be sceptical about, & at times I am hyper sceptic. But I want to be fooled by randomness.
No’ I ain't a wrestler & I know no martial arts!
Still ‘grappling with my random moral compass’ - things of things most people resolve by the time they're my age. Its difficult to say, who is grappling who? From where I stand everything seems so random. If I could stand somewhere else, I would see the order in it.
We live wondering why life is so conditional & yet unexpectantly accepted as livable. There will always be this fight - wherein, life would work in its own way & we would want to make it work in accordance, the way we want it to.
Have you ever stopped to figure out & understand how life works? How random do you think it gets? Ever imagined life without randomness - wouldn't it be boring?. I don't know about life, but chances are that, life knows me pretty well. Very few understand the real you - how well do you understand yourself? - chances are always remote & vice versa. For the only truest of thing to yourself is your very being, until you figure how true you are to your own self & how true yourself is to you? you shall not figure out anyone or anything at all truly.
If at all, you could be best of friends with life, it could teach you a thing or two.Its not there only to amuse you or entertain & if It does ,It expects things in return - depends on how intellectual or dumb you are to let its randomness go or grow - it takes much more always to make it work, then you think.
Randomness - if it's going to start, randomly in circles, is going to end up in a random way.
I have always been persevering, thinking critically, analyzing, and constructing an in-depth understanding when faced with a problem that does not have a clear path to a solution & end up generating a solution or an opinion to a problem.
No it's not entirely your fault to presume, assume, perceive, be analytical, make judgements by default.I can very well conclude, based on my experience when I start to make judgements about certain things, whenever I do! (I am not being judgmental)
Strength instead of being the lusty child of passion, grows by grappling with and subduing them. James M. Barrie
There could be a sequence of verbs growing in no direction(occurrence or absence) or in a non-compounding way due to unintentional reasons that has no purpose. How willing & strong are you to withstand - holding up & standing your ground against the haphazard-randomness. How well equipped are you to struggle, grapple(wrestle - literally or figuratively) or deal with a problem or difficulty, (something or someone) in your endeavour trying hard to solve it or overcome.
We row old with wisdom, grow out of our experiences - slow down a little loosing on to our potential, addressing odds & the even, everything & almosts. Learning from the mistakes and there's no looking back. It's exactly where & how we started from & came back at the end.
There is this randomness forever & the grappling goes on. - Anonymous
Spectacles - where art though? Come On!...Stop Playing Games now ! Phew, Now where did I landed up thee - can't see a thing.Few days back, I forgot my smartphone in the refrigerator & when I got hold of, it was cold - all blurred with the moisturizer, I had to give it a CPR to bring it back to life...luckily it wasn't dead. I wonder if at all, I did kept my spectacles in the fridge. No! I just double checked, it wasn't there.If at all it would have been there, the windshields would have already cracked & by no means it would come back to life. Thankfully, I had this old broken pair with me, but I was still finding it difficult to adjust, read & type as things did not appear that clear. I am still, trying to figure thee out desperately - enough is enough!
Well' I am the most busiest & the free person in the world, living by myself, eventually forcefully or by choice - having found reasons to keep my self occupied. These small fits of irony in petite forms are hilarious & keeps you engaged - living it in the best possible or impossible way one could, by whatever means - sufficing to ones interests of random choices of plentiful things that keep us alive & going.
Glad to have had found the black stray dog back on the street again(He is getting old,looks weak, must have lost his appetite), who seemed to have had fled away disappearing for a while, hiding - suffering from agony & pain. I could not take care of him, rescue or pacify him (I had my reasons) when he got hurt with a bad wound. He would stare , wanting to be cuddled pampered and possibly sheltered. Guilty over it as time passes. Not much long way back this dream that I had of a dog, made me realized - to be an indicative warning of the things that were to happen.
Spiritually aware of the universe and it's direct metaphysical connection to one's own being and the connection it host to all life forces. Awakened being is one that has willingly discovered and experienced masturbation. This Awakened Night had me, addressing ironical awkwardness of kinds. From comedy of errors: ‘Er’(pause - expressing hesitation & uncertainties) or ‘Err’(to stray, wander with erratic & erroneous assumptions - partly correct or with errors) to standing-up (being loyal yourself, people & beliefs - taking small but powerful steps - to remain sound & intact under stress, attack, or close scrutiny)
A "fading garland" used as a metaphor for the evening of life or aging in general " Did she realize in a flash of prescience that there was no earthly future for our sweet Cecily? Not for her were to be the lengthening shadows or the fading garland. The end was to come while the rainbow still sparkled on her wine of life, ere a single petal had fallen from her rose of joy.
(I am reading Lucy M. Montgomery’s The Golden Road) & listening to Indian Summer by The Doors.
No matter how outrageously accustomed as fools we tend to live this life, abiding by a set of accustomed principles of perceptive fabricated lifestyles that we choose, disillusioned & deserted trying to find comfort to confront, retaining our courage back - trying to live. No matter what we strife or aspire for. When life gets tough & harder it makes us realize it always existed & for everyone in bits & pieces. Engrossed with the chaos & negates trying to possibly outreach our own self & standing up in ways that could help & pull us out of this hell - so kniving & cruel and put us back on track, wanting to step on to this heaven' so kind and generous. Hell yeah!
One life to an individual, soul & body & then a viscous circle of a molecular evolution of 8.4 million life times to have this human body(form) again. Life is one hell of a greater ‘Stand-Up Comedian’ itself, with plans of its own - laughing on our ‘Comedy Of Errors’, while we are still in the process of understanding or underestimating a joke, that life made upon us. For not there is one person who could have it all and for others who would have nothing. The uncertainties of how, why, if & but’s haunt us to an early grave, for blessed are those who live much more then they ever thought and lucky are the ones who resolute dissolving to an early death, having to suffer no more. I am now listening to Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen.
There are many facets to a set of deeds compiled in past, present or future & its one of it's kind. I don't have a clue - how being an pessimist, optimist, opportunist or anything else works - All I know or guess is, it comes in shuffling shifts taking you from one pandora to another of a handful-set of human phenomenons for a greater good or worse. Everyone & to each its completely a different one.
"Unseen, this colourless sky of folded showers,And folded winds; no blossom in the bowers; A poet's face asleep in this grey morn. Now in the midst of the old world forlorn. A mystic child is set in these still hours. I keep this time, even before the flowers, Sacred to all the young and the unborn. And to the future of my own young art, And, among all these things, to you, my sweet, My friend, to your calm face and the immortal. Child tarrying all your life-time in your heart". - Alice Meynell
I am listening to Daydream by Jack Steadman right now.That cant be a coincidence now, I just checked the time, its 03:37 A.M. I seem to have been awaken for some nights now & I seem to have been hallucinating & getting confused - I cant remember, which part of it was real & which part of it was a dream? jokes apart. I guess, I need a sleep - I need a dream.
फ़ुर्सत मिलती है तो ख्वाबगाह से गुज़र आती हैं हसरतें मेरी, अनमोल हुआ करती थीं जो आज दो कौड़ी की हो चलीं हैं, फल्सफ़ो में उलझी गुमराह कायनात-ए-फ़ितरत मेरी.
“Whenever they get chance, my desires pass by this house of dreams. It used to be so precious way back, now seems to have gone worthless - my universal inherent nature, getting involved in the arguments of philosophy have gone astray."- Anonymous
This call had woke me up from a dream - a real alarming-rather annoying one. It was at the moment I was awakened ironically with new emotions stirred within me. They say "Dreams are Not Real".Damn they are wrong - hence proved!
Nocturnal me, caught in the wee hours again, listening on to Surrender by Darlene Koldenhoven (Tranquil Times). It is a sleepless night, despite being a little tired, I am awake to this restless alertness of mind which has taken me to the root or origin of plentiful of things - so thoroughly thoughtful. Acquainting myself with extremely anxious tendencies of heart - so emotional and radical.
‘For what ought to happen, shall, For what not to shall not.’
LAWD...I just tripped on the floor naked, while going to the kitchen to cook myself dinner, straight after a bath. Not realizing the watery floor(I forgot to wipe it off' last time while washing clothes' when I had my washing machine pouring out soapy water during the process & me trying to experiment with it's mechanics (knob play) for a faster job)’
With the closed locked doors & latched windows - am I still haunted? I just heard some noise in the next room. All sorts of thoughts ran onto my head - Who or what it could be? A cat? or something/someone else - fingers crossed.I immediately got myself slipped into a pair of boxers, as I had completely forgot slipping into one, while sipping, eating ,sitting looking at my laptop.I am habitual of not wearing anything or much of things generally - being just myself - completely at ease. A thought striked my mind ‘What if I was found naked by a robber that came to rob, or someone who came to hunt me down & kill me?’,I increased & decreased the volume of the music playing & started juggling with my keyboard. I started talking to myself & enacted as if, I had a company & I was not all alone by myself. Least bothered about it much later, since I heard nothing more, I went to peep & everything seemed fine. There is this thing, I am always worried about & afraid of-not wanting to be seen naked, when I am unconscious or dead.
"The thing you fear most has no power. Your fear of it is what has the power. Facing the truth really will set you free, for Hope sees the invisible, feels the intangible, and achieves the impossible.
.
There was not one, but in volumes - these thought provoking & alarming tit-bits of chaosed & intellectual musings that surrounded me, had me engrossed. Swinging across to these situationally propositioned dilemmas at my disposal were these alienated alternative mismatches of infinite possibilities with positive & negative attributes. Life, in its attempts to harness-tackle & take over control had me & my horses forcefully tamed in a peculiar way.
By now straps were fastened & this Awakened House of Night had me - riding on to my horses(peculiar thoughtfulness),trying to get across to the other side of the world (away from nuanced riddance), but with a quarrelsome self realization.
I wont hesitate or be reluctant when it comes in tougher times to enact upon, choose or take a decision. Like everyone else, one of the several advises I was given was to read “How to Win Friends & Influence People”& to oblige & maintain - keeping up with the relationships. I didn't find it at all necessary by any reason or rhyme to get into trouble of finding & getting hold of the textual vocabulary of words since life was about real experiences - worthy & meritorious in its own way. There was absolutely nothing I had to compete for. I had no one to influence or get influenced by none. I never needed to win no friends - I had the best ones already. I wasn't willing to deliberately keep up with anyone single handedly, when I didn't see it coming from other end, its about time - I put an end to this obligatory entertained. People, I have been lately dealing with havent been noble & wise - no offense. Everyone seem to have or absolutely no idea of how things are at other end & in no way things could be any better. I was tired of obliging fools (people with idiocy) who by no means would change there self-esteemed stubbornness or ill habitual acts & still be erratic, bothersome, vague & useless. They wont lend any conclusive help in real, despite knowing the peculiarities of the issue. They who wrongly perceive themselves to be a marvelously qualified ones. lending them a ear was a painstaking job - they would only blabber nonsense & wont do any good. I often end up trusting my hunches - they're usually based on facts filed away just below the conscious level.
Listening to Stairway to Heaven(Apocalyptica). Leading me to a conclusive realization, that I was headed in a right direction & my place in there was kept safe - for I have been a good boy. Heaven is not a place or a condition. It is merely an awareness of perfect oneness. How far could one say that truly for hell as well?.
Brightening me up, was‘Just Be’ song by Paloma Faith, What were the odds? - My earphones started acting shitty - one side played and other had to be adjusted repeatedly & my laptop charger was being a useless freak. (not-charging)
“If you want to know your past life, look into your present condition; if you want to know your future life, look at your present actions." *condition's apply
Late nights always make me groggy the next morning. With Winter Lullaby by David Garrett to my ears, my eyes closed - I was on bed now & the early morning had led me into a peacefully lazy & tiresome stillness. It ought to be a wonderful morning, in hope that it be. - Anonymous
Perfume is a story in odor, sometimes a poetry in memory. - Jean Claude Ellena
If only one could smell - If at all the fragrance could yell, this perfume, the one I am wearing today after a real long time has it's own story to tell.
Where from? even I don't know - not a clue! Why? because, this came as a parcel couriered from the unknown - I fetched. A brown card-board rectangular box cello-taped with a chit pasted upon, on to it - had my name & address - with a black marker etched. For a moment I assumed it to be just another online shopped delivery parcels, but no, it wasn't. The momentum of curiosity & excitement in extremes that underwent, unwrapping to check what the box of pandora holded, as I unfolded - who it came from? or was it God scent?
Somethings, sometimes, that come for you-come to you, no matter what & sets you off on your willingness to take chances through the whole exploring & the dwelling into - trying to figure things out. This one came with contact details mentioned of someone unfamiliar I did not knew. Though I had an urge to text or call the person - I just never did. I eventually decided to call it a gift from a secret admirer. Despite all the odds - I had by now already pulled off my thinking hats & done away with. I had kept the perfume & to the sender imaginary goodbye’s I bid.
They say ‘It's nearly impossible to smell yourself’, so if by any chance you are near, please be my guest without a fear - Do come down, so we (each other) could smell.
I have not much often, but at times, put ones on. I prefer more of light, soothing, pleasant ones & not the sorts that give me a headache. But whatever it be' I noticed - this parfum(undisclosed mixture), the one I am wearing right now has a distinctive smell(tacky-funky fragrance-too loud) & certainly has a smiley effect on me'- making me feel good - I wonder they did not had in it poured the laughing gas by any chance or was it a means to hypnotize & tame me to fall in love or fondness with this admirer! WTF' LOL. Nevertheless it's always an awesome feeling - having to burst into fits of giggles or smiles! No, It's only a smiling gas,I think & I ain't laughing out loud! - maybe or may be not! burp! (I m sorry, excuse me for that, I just had friend rice) - too much for my chemo-sensory system to take in at the same time. I’am enjoying this suspiciously mischievous act & feeling wander-fully thoughtful.
I am intoxicated, It has got into me - triggering my sensory neurons.
There are less of times, you are in a state like this. Telling to myself - today, if I had been face to face with unfriendly or enemy if any - he/she shall have been excused for all those less harmed - little petite things, ever convicted or any acts of offending me ever committed. I would consider everything passe and hug thee. Sounds a little cheesy though - I know!" Hilarious - there's something in the air - in love & war, as they say, everything is fair. It’s the sensory cells doing the mischief. I don't know whom to blame - Let there be a blame-less game, & let the sender have no name. Let me rise and shine putting on the perfume every day-every night, i’ll make the perfume my amorous - armour knight. I didn't even realized, I was sitting without the fan for all this while - ranting about this perfume, with a bowl of food in my hand - I’ll hog now to the leftovers & finish - I hopefully might. Mesmerized mind - I seem to have lost my focus & concentration - there is definitely something in this perfume - ‘aroma’ cruel or kind? I need to be cautious next time. Its just once in a blue moon-things like these happen. Its not always, that I get gifts from people I know or I happen to have secret admirers so many but then, you don't want to end up getting hallucinated-hypnotized - tumbling down into rifts if any.
Its not like, that I don't love perfumes or surprises...Oh I absolutely love the good ones pouring in - in abundance, I do! but would have been glad, if I knew or a hint or two -I had. Maybe in days to come, I might figure-out the whereabouts of some. I am sure the receiver & receptors are good in detecting things until they practically shut down after being bombarded with the same for long. Meanwhile I’ll be sniffing around different odors & many of things - good & bad, right or wrong.
‘My nose seems to be sending signals to my brain’ - Anonymous
Greetings all
from a gray Atlanta, where it is slightly cold but without a trace of
the snow and ice nightmare ("Snowpocalypse '011") that had the city in
its grips last week. A cat snoozes to my right, a dog snoozes to my left, and I'm eating Cheez-Its (mmm, TBHQ) to recover from a miserable hangover...ahh, I must be home.
The occasion of my visit is a trip to San Francisco I made in order to
attend a conference and present our work. The conference was fine, but
it was my first time in SF and I was really excited to look around, and
fortunately I scheduled myself a couple of days to do so.
I was
prepared for rotten weather, as I've heard it can be in the winter, but
found a city enjoying sunny 21C/70F temperatures, nothing like the
winter at all. I didn't anticipate wanting to be outside much during
this trip, but SF was just begging to be explored.
I got in to
the city in the early afternoon and checked into my hotel (after walking
about 10 blocks in the wrong direction). Trans-global traveler as I now
am, I've become accustomed to losing all sense of time and having to
quickly adjust to avoid jetlag. The strategy is easy, just a one-step
process:
1) stay awake.
This isn't easy when you're
presented with a clean, empty bed, but once you think about that city
waiting out there, it's a no-brainer. Get out and hit the streets! And
so, a man on a mission, I headed for the Mission.
First thing I did when I got there was, patriotic American as I am, to enjoy our national dish:
Holy moly, look at that chow. That burrito was so damn good I might
print the picture out and eat it. This was placed before me for the
whopping price of US$6 (=AU$6!), world's finest macromicrobrew beer
included! The place was Taqueria Pancho Villa on 16th St between Mission
and Valencia, named as a joke, I was to learn: the owner is named
Francisco Villa, just like the Mexican revolutionary. Unlike his
namesake, though, Francisco doesn't earn the nickname "Pancho", which
roughly translates as "Fatty". But the place was bedecked with images of
El Comandante, including this unbelievable "bronze" bust:
Imagine having that in your house. Your north Mexican landowner dinner
guests would shit their pants and run in fright back to their
latifundias.
The Mission is also home to some famous graffiti walls:
Lovely stuff, especially when you're full on Mexican food, giddy about
being in a Spanish-speaking country again, delirious from 20 hours of
flying, and many dollars poorer after visiting Mission Workshop (coming
soon to Australia, they told me).
After browsing the rest of
the things on offer in the Mission---826 Valencia, bookstores and coffee
shops---I wound my way back to the Tenderloin, where I was staying, and
managed to keep myself awake until a respectable 10PM.
The
conference nominally started the next day---Saturday---but when I went
down to the Convention Center (the Moscone Center, named after the SF
Mayor that was killed with Harvey Milk) I realized that there wasn't
much going on, so I picked up my conference materials and walked toward
the Bay. Along Market St, I came across these excellent examples of
public art outside an office building:
These fantastic, Tim
Burton-esque pieces, called "Moonrise", are by Ugo Rondinone. Much more
dramatic and competent photos of these pieces can be seen here.
My stroll took me out to the Ferry Terminal, a perfect spot to enjoy
what was turning into a glorious morning. Looking east from the
Terminal, the Bay Bridge was a delight to behold: and, behind me, lay
the Financial District, looking prim and proper:
A bunch of
stereotypes with legs, the natives joined me en masse at the Ferry
Terminal that morning for a farmer's market. There they were, wearing
their fleece vests, sampling artisan cheeses and gasping at the sight of
organic parsnips. I was truly in the thick of westcoastness. And yes, I
made it out alive, sallying forth along the Embarcadero toward
Fisherman's Wharf, where flocks of tourists are greeted by an overgrown,
grown-over crab-friend-and then get to feast their eyes (and abuse
their noses) on these guys:
These chunky customers have taken
over Pier 39 and while away the days howling, barking, and sleeping in a
real pile when they're not shoving each other off the platform. I
missed videotaping that but here are some placid moments:
In the distance lay The Rock, القطرس*:
*Note: wanna get stuck into a mind-bending Wikipedia wormhole? Try doing the etymology on "Alcatraz" and "albatross".
That self-same day, I managed to climb the hills to Lombard St, "The
Steepest Street in America", then down again, then up again to the San
Francisco Art Institute, where in 1931 Diego Rivera left a hell of a
calling card:
This painting-within-a-painting features Diego
and his artist friends, and several anonymous workers, painting and
sculpting images of a giant worker/engineer, depicting him as the person
on whom society depends. In those heady days of epic struggle, Rivera
and his sympathizers had invested their hopes for a better world in the
international working class and left this as a clear message: even our
monuments should be seen as the outcome of a collaborative process of
production.
The Art Institute (built around an old convent) features another spectacular attraction, the vista from its roof:
There, in the center of the photo, you see Telegraph Hill, topped by
the famous fire-nozzle of Coit Tower. It was my next destination:
Wasn't that quick? Actually, I stopped on the way to grab some famous
focaccia from Liguria in North Beach and scarfed it when I reached the
top of the hill.
The tower was commissioned at the bequest of
Lillie Hitchcock Coit (talk about your tongue-twister names) and built
in 1933 to honor the city's firefighters. The New Deal Public Works of
Art Project also commissioned fresco murals in the lobby of the tower
from San Francisco artists. Deemed "communistic" at the time, the murals
depict the daily life of toilers across the state, from fruit-pickers
to slaughterhouse workers to city-dwellers, and address contemporary
issues such as the stock market crash and increasing social
polarization. Two of the murals were actually considered too provocative
to show to the public and so were destroyed before the Tower could be
opened. Most of the murals are clearly in the style of Rivera, though
some tend more toward romantic visions of the American countryside (and
are therefore pretty boring). In one scene, people read newspapers in a
library; the headlines spell financial crisis, industrial struggle, and
dark news from Europe. In response, a man reaches for a tome:
And that was one of the murals that was saved from destruction! Overall
the murals are amazing and worth the climb to the Tower. They really
give you a sense of the city's radical history long before the 60s. The
Tower itself was closed, unfortunately, so I couldn't go up. My camera
also died at this point so I couldn't take more mural photos, but more
can be found with a little Googling.
I wound my way back town
the hill and through North Beach, stopping at City Lights bookstore for a
stickybeak and Vesuvio for a pint. Walking out of the bar and turning
the next corner, the scenery changed abruptly:
That's right, San Francisco has a Little Sydney!
Actually, they call it "Chinatown". All kidding aside, this might be
the prototype Chinatown (with the exception of China itself, of course)
and still claims to be the biggest one in the West. I'm not sure how
these things are judged, because Sydney claims to have, I believe, the
second biggest Chinatown in the West, but the Chinatown in New York
seems bigger than the SF one to me in terms of area and population, so
that would put Sydney at #3 at best. I also doubt that Sydney is even
that high. Regardless, this one presented streets as bustling as any I'd
seen in the city and the familiar sights and smells of China-Towns
everywhere.
I definitely took the opportunity to grab some
steamed veg dumplings as a little pre-dinner snack and simply strode
around, a gleeful smirk on my face, my feet aching from two massive days
of rambling. My belly a veritable culinary UN, I sauntered off to my
hotel, delighted to have a week of San Francisco's cosmopolitan
offerings yet to come. - Anonymous
