Here I am at the Embarcadero in San Francisco, city of bridges. This was the last stop on my California voyage.There is also a wonderful Claus Oldenburg sculpture of a bow and arrow, quite large of course, down from where I am sitting. From the ferry building to Fisherman's Wharf is this promenade along the bay. You may walk , or take a trolley. You soon learn it is always necessary to have exact change for all public transportation.
I found this to be a city which contains so many elements of art and design right in the public view. There are the buildings themselves: new and hard edged; full of curlicues and ornament, which their colors accentuate; influences of the Chinese culture, everywhere evident. Then there are the old warehouses,with their dirty glass windows and massive size against the sky.
We visited an artist friend in the Mission district, who has his studio in the old Hellman factory. He was one of a group of artists who bought this building years ago, and pay a reasonable maintenance rent. It is an entire building filled with such creative efforts. This was a real joy and inspiration for me.
I have been visiting this city since the 1960's. I miss the element of low rent and slight decay that used to reside in certain areas. I can't imagine it is possible to find reasonable space to live and work there today. The technology boom has made this an even more desirable place to live, and it felt like New York prices for everything we ate or did. There is a price to pay to live in a city which is the art.
Here I am on the beach in San Francisco. I know, the sun never shines in that city, but it did last week when I was there. A heat wave. The sand was actually hot as I ran toward the cool Pacific. I brought all my warm clothes, but pulled those out earlier that week, while staying around Santa Barbara,where the cold winds were blowing.
The sun was shining while driving up Route One, along the Ocean. Past Esalen, where I loved to sit in the hot tubs overlooking the crashing waves at night. Stopping at the formerly quaint restaurant, Nepenthe. Very upscale now, not like when I used to have breakfast along with all the flower children in the van heading up to San Francisco to hear music, and hang out.
Things don't stay the same, but how glorious are my memories of California back in the sixties and seventies.
I am grateful for those days. I know somewhere seeds of creativity got lodged within me, to bloom later.
