The Good Life

Suddenly I've got a fridge full of cheese (where are you, David?), and I'm wondering how I'm going to consume all of it. There are: a bunch of little speciality cheeses from the photo shoot this week (which I rarely seem to buy myself), and a few that were for a mushroom lasagna I was going to make for the book club that never happened (20 oz of goat cheese, 30 oz of ricotta, a little tub of freshly grated romano). Plus, I've got my ever-present chunks of cheddar & parmesan, and some delicious cottage & cream cheeses. Yipes!

RIP, book club. After starting out with over a dozen women a year & a half ago, it's now just me & Nora. Next up is "The Art of Happiness" by the Dalai Lama, which I want to nibble on in preparation for my trek in Tibet.

The Murder of Ashlyn Dyer

I only saw her once, and that was across a crowded conference room during a photo briefing we were having a month & a half ago for a catalog. I only found out after she'd been the victim of a hit & run while running in the Presidio that she was a marathoner, and just a year younger than me. She'd been at the RE for not even two months, and people seem to stream through here without introductions & without goodbyes, and I don't remember ever having seen her in the maze-like hallways. So we were never formally introduced, and I hustled out of that meeting, fluttering with stress for all the work to be done. Knowing what I know now, we could have been friends.

Well, the person who hit her, the person who left her lying in a ditch on the side of the road, could have saved her life if they'd called someone. But the wait was too long -- 10 minutes or more without oxygen to her brain -- and the damage was irreversible. I'm thinking of all the miles I logged in the Presidio while training for the SF marathon last summer. (Running right by where Ashlyn was killed, actually). Streaming down the street, seeing the Pacific Ocean all around me, the cypress trees, the smell of eucalyptus, and knowing I was absorbing one of the most beautiful places in the world.

I'm sorry I didn't know you, Ashlyn. Rest in peace.

.....

Info about the accident & how to help

When: March 2nd in between 6:45am-7am
Who: Ashlyn Dyer was struck by a vehicle
Where: Washington Blvd. and Kobbe Avenue in the Presidio.

If you recall seeing Ashlyn Dyer in this area during this time OR recall seeing any suspicious vehicles with damage in the area contact:
Detective Sgt. Jansing @ 415-561-5144, US Park Police

AshlynDyer.com
The Chronicle, "Jogger struck by hit-run driver dies in hospital" - March 13, 2006

It's getting better all the time

In October, on my first day at my new job, I decided I'd be there for 6 months, and then I'd quit. Life's too short to live half your waking life in a job you hate - you know? If there's anything I've learned from my last year of heartache, it's that love exists and I need to go find it again.

There are so many incredible people doing their thing out there, and I'm working overtime for a gift catalog co., hiring kid models for nearly $200/hr, and standing behind the camera at the photo shoot trying to get said kid model to stop screaming and smile to sell our product. At the gig, I'm the odd ball (in SF, can you believe it?) with all of these expensive people around me talking about products, money, multi-million dollar homes, & reality t.v. In short, they're mainstream, and I'm not. I'd rather spend my time seeking out the incredible people.

So after the first day, I counted up all the work days I'd have til then, and started a countdown. Every day, I come home & mark off the day. Some of my friends (like Ladd) think it's unhealthy, but I think it's quite the opposite. It keeps me focused and aware of what I really want; what life's really about.

In February, I thought I'd extend my stay an additional 6 months so I could take a long trip to Asia. I want to get back to shooting, and I have some projects on my mind. (At the moment, Tibet, Nepal & Thailand are on the list). Yesterday was day 99.

Love & Missouri

- my parents, bus & sandy


Last weekend I flew home to STL for my dad's 60th birthday party. I thought I'd set up a photo studio, and shoot portraits of their friends and our family during the party. Since a good family friend died last fall at age 58, I've been thinking about how to document my family experience better. It doesn't help, of course, that I live in San Francisco, and everyone else is anchored in Missouri.

I wasn't sure how the whole photo studio idea would blow over with the guests. Thankfully, they got into it. Mostly I shot couples, which I guess is to be expected, but it was interesting that so many of these couples kissed in front of the camera. Most of these people I didn't know, or, not very well. They wanted to represent themselves as one, as being affectionate. It makes St. Louis look like a lovely, loving place to be.

And I quote

Today, in the bright, white-light morning sun, I was opening the door to the big warehouse building, and watched as I swung my bike's front wheel to the left, knocking over my ceramic mug full of de-lish coffee I'd yet to drink, slicing it in two, and splattering the coffee down the steps.

"Oh shoot," I yelped, looking behind me, to the young man leaning up against the hood of a car on the street, just to acknowledge that I saw him there, watching me.

"That's alright," he said with an emotionless, clear-eyed face. "I just got fired."

"Oh no!" I cried, with sympathy. "I'm sorry!" But that was all I could think to say. (Should I offer my condolences? Say it's going to be alright?) How likely is it that he'd be interested in my talking about the big picture? Or about appreciating the small one, and this incredible morning?

I said nothing, just swung the door open again to enter, and left the bright light and the boy behind, trudging up the steps with my bike over my shoulder for another day in the photo studio, another day of stress, another day where I don't belong. I thought of my countdown til I quit this job (121 more work days to go), before I leave this city, head for Missouri for a little while, then explore south-east asia for 4 to 5 months. I've got the itch, and it's time to go.

I'm not emotionally available to take your call right now.

Some quotes from the year past:

"Hi honey, we're watching Survivor right now. Can we call you back? It's down to the last two people. We'll call you right back. You're not calling to say you're married, or anything, are you?"

"No Daddy."

"Oh, alright then, we'll give you a call right back."

- Sunday, May 15

.....

At Planned Parenthood, the couple next to me in the first waiting room (behind 2 locked doors) sat down together with fresh coffee, and after a moment, he squeezed her hand. Then he whispered to her, "I don't like these shoes because they make my feet look big."

.....

a text message to my then lover:
"bright lipsticked w sore throat. yesterday i saw a dogfight. all this & missing you"

.....

"I don't like them because they're nonpartisan," said this woman whom I worked with at the San Francisco Democratic Party, talking about some website whose name I forget.

.....

"A world without Aunt Nita is a very sad world," said Sandy, my mother, lying on my couch, looking at my great aunt's portrait on the wall. "It's still hard to imagine a world without her." (She'd been gone for over a year)

.....

"I think this is the best vacation I've ever had," my mom said, sitting opposite me at the small table at Alamo Square Grill, which was great to hear, of course, affirming my efforts (or effortlessness), my chosen city, my way of life & apartment. And simply, me. Great too, because I was thinking it was such a smooth enjoyable experience myself. Not one argument or disagreement - just a solid line of play, relax, ice tea, coffee, making things, and talk.

Johnny & June

Renee and I hustled over to the theater to see Walk the Line after Thanksgiving dinner. I loved it, though it's true that fans might appreciate it more than the average viewer. Still, it's a beautiful love story, which I think just about everybody can relate to. Especially the duets.

Life (and death) in the Western Addition

Maybe it's time to move. Two men were shot dead today just two blocks away from my apartment, in the middle of the afternoon. And, right next to an elementary school, no less. I hear the gunshot of gang wars, and it's not the first time in the last two years that there's been police tape cordoning off the block. A few months back there was an 'incident' where I found the above Christian card.

Earlier this spring, B photographed these kids on the block where the two died today.