s(O)an f(REAKIN’)ran c(OOL)isco :::
San Francisco: the last stop of the tour and one of the places I’d been looking forward to the most, thanks to hearty recommendations from Mike and Jess. It’s a shame I didn’t turn up til mid afternoon on gig day, exhausted from my LA fun, but I found pleasure in photographing the amazing local laundrette:
…and in walking up and down Divisadero Street looking around health food stores, art galleries and street markets and eating at the outstanding Herbivore, yet another vegan restaurant that puts most London eateries to shame (don’t worry Brighton, you are excused):
The next morning I jumped out of my bunk as early as I could to grab breakfast there complete with vegan doughnuts – the stuff of dreams – and headed off on a little shopping trip to find Lomo cameras, medium format film and cheap memory sticks. Geek-o-rama, and a great way to see a little bit of the city before heading home.
After a strange conversation with a bus driver, who asked my age curtly and softened once I told him, adding he had been worried I was “one of those teenbopper types” (what, like, 17 years old? Thanks!) but I was actually “an old lady, yuk yuk yuk” (hmm), I paid Photoworks a visit to buy my very own Holga (big thanks to Lee for the lend of his over the summer) before heading up to Flight 001 for a supersampler.
As I took pictures of strange/funny wall graffiti and signage along the way I attracted the attention of a man who, while clearly somewhat out of his mind, spoke in a kindly tone and pointed out what he considered to be a better wall for me to photograph. The wall looked plain enough to me, but as he described the monsters who inhabit the area and speak to him on a regular basis it became clear I had a very different view of it to him. I nodded and smiled, thanking him for telling me all about it, then turned off the main street to walk back towards the tour bus. I’d been warned about the eccentric characters and so-called “down and outs” I’d find around the city and I felt sad this man was living in such a vibrantly unreal world, though at the same time he’s one of the most cheerful people I’ve met recently.
What struck me most about SF on this too-brief visit was the amount of graffiti, slogans and stencils everywhere I looked. Divisadero Street especially had numerous stencils dotted around on the pavement – sorry, sidewalk – as well as political comments scrawled in chalk, like “VOTE MCBUSH” and “PALIN HATES POLAR BEARS”. I liked these too:
I’m not fussed by the obvious landmarks in a city – it’s the unexpected, the unusual and the temporary that interest me. Graffiti / street art (when it’s more than just the lazy scrawl of someone’s name on a wall) fascinates me because of its reactionary and often temporary nature. It makes sense to me that the people who live in a place should be allowed to make their mark on it visually, and though there are obvious problems with leaving that sentiment that wide open just look at East London and its wealth of interesting street art for an idea of how things could (should?) be.
I felt emotional leaving America – something I hadn’t expected. Because of the anger and frustration I feel towards the US government on so many levels, over the years I suppose I’d developed a mental block towards the country itself, feeling it was no place for me and that I wasn’t bothered about seeing anywhere other than New York (the last liberal outpost, so I imagined, and the home of some of my nicest friends). I feel differently now. It’s only a few days since I got back so these feelings are very fresh, but already I’m trying to work out a way to get back to spend a decent amount of time in California. The people I met there have helped me to return inspired and ready to make things happen at home, but I have a feeling I’ll run back to the sun and the sense of opportunity as soon as I can.
All together now: “Californnnnyyyyyiaaaaaaaaaaaaaa”…
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