According to the calendar, summer is ending in just a few days. Those of us living in San Francisco know that summer officially starts in September and goes until November, when the winter rains eventually roll in and bring all outdoor activity to a pause until the start of spring again. My Calendar Summer was entirely dedicated to the delicate art of home decor on a shoestring budget and endless rounds of ADHD paralysis over creative projects that I wished I could be doing but I instead laid on the couch and let the blaring bells of insecurity go off in my head without moving.
I’d like to say that Calendar Fall, aka SF Summer, will be the period of time where the sun melts the ADHD freeze and I can be energized into to building back up a portfolio of creative work and getting back into community engagement. Like a plant reaching towards the window for sunlight, I usually emerge as my most productive when it’s bright and warm outside. My best writing happens when it’s sunny outside, and that’s just the way it must be for someone who was raised in a desert.
However, when fog covers the sky, it creates even lighting and the chill makes it easier to walk long distances without becoming drenched in sweat, so midday photowalks are a lot easier in the SF Summer.
Despite the fog, the gloom, the financial strain and recovering from some lingering spring illnesses, I did manage to plan out a few new photography projects I’m wanting to start and I’ve fallen more in love with the colorful and weird residential architecture in the Sunset.
The first project I’m working on is how I would Sim-City the Financial District if I were given the omnipotent power to dictate a new design of the neighborhood. This idea was born out of countless walks through FiDi on my lunch breaks and the gut wrenching loneliness I both feel and want to preserve in some ways when I’m there. I even express a little empathy for the classic Business Man and his struggles as his way of life becomes obsolete and outdated, too. The project is a mixture of imaginative urban design and a meditation on preservation.
The second is collecting my favorite pieces of the Sunset. Simple, and endless. The phrase I always give when trying to explain my personal work is that I’m constantly trying to find small signs of human life. My style leans on signs that are less dramatic and uniform; I’m not the type of photographer who will be great at capturing clean lines or perfect symmetry and I’m not always inspired by the beauty in the mundane. I’d rather think about it like this: little signs of rebellion against conformity that just barely points a toe over the line of structure. Less mundane, more like a touch of chaos and mess.
I love to see faded paint and chipped wood on the faux decorative balconies of the Doelger style homes in the sunset; dry tomato plants growing in front of the garage inside recycled plastic Kikkoman soy sauce buckets and ornate art-deco elements holding strong above the electric car chargers.
I’m typing these projects up and collecting more photos for what I hope will be an ongoing series to keep me busy throughout the fall. In the meantime, I’m enjoying the sun and even though midday can be brutal, I’ll keep at the exploration and look forward to sharing something, soon.
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