Chance = Change

There they are again - ever faithful at 3:30 a.m. = my friends the fog horns. Like Tibetan monks, they intone warnings against unconsciousness and fear.

We watched the fog gobble up Berkeley yesterday - as if some odd horror movie menace, quietly, steadily was overtaking the light of the late afternoon...watched as the lovely hills of Berkeley thoroughly disappeared behind the gray dense velvety curtain of this thick moisture, and it seemed to dwarf us all....make us all insignificant and helpless against its inexorable mission to cover all in its path....it was creepy.

If I were living in one of those houses on the hillside, i would have experienced a curtain being drawn, shutting out all light. I would have had to turn on lamps. The bright late afternoon became quite other very quickly.

Peter and I spent al ong and interesting day over in the East Bay. FIrst , with Jennifer Boesing at the Youth Musical Theatre Company, then with Peter Damm, an East Bay real estate agent who showed us around Oakland, Berkeley and environs. I had him drop us off down on 4th Street, where i knew of some interesting stores Peter would love, and so he did: a wondrous pen and paper shop...then a place called Teance, where we sat for along time sampling teas from China and India. A lovely experience in a lovely and unique place. we were joined there by my dear old friend Barbara Damashek, and all three of dined on 4th Street at a Japanese fusion restaurant called O Chame (with an accent over the e)...we had warming bowls of soba noodle soup with various delicacies mixed in , and I topped my meal off with a bowl of delectable caramel balsamic gelato! A deeply satisfying meal. BY the time we got back to the BART station, the fog had begun to take over the world.

I am awake again, wondering how we will ever make this move. It all seems so overwhelming and insurmountable this morning...so much to get done...such a large life to pare down in order to fit into our first San Francisco home (wherever it may be)....so many things....we've gotten rid of a lot of stuff already, but there is so much more to get rid of, and so much to complete in other areas of our life as well. But, that's what change is all about, and I trust that Peter and I are up to it...because change us what we want. We are making these choices with full awareness and desire to make them, and we want to live in this wonderful city. Not New York, not Abingdon, but San Francisco. We want to live here.
So, this morning the fog horns are telling me; "Man up", Ev....get your courage on, and deal with it!

These particular early morning horns are warning me to avoid the obfuscating and encroaching fog generated by my fear of the unknown and trust that the light of day and personal courage are simply waiting beneath the thick surface of those fears.

I can do that. I can trust.

Today, we look at two more rental properties, and then spend the day at the Asian Art Museum...one of our very favorites. ....another reminder of why we are choosing to make this move: a fine museum.

Onward.

Labels: San Francisco

Am I my "lay-away"? (Sounding pretty Hamlisch-Kleban here)...am I the sum total of the THINGS I've purchased throughout my life? I am wide awake in SF, it being 5:30 on a foghorn-less morning, because worrying woke me.

We've spent the last two exhausting days looking at every rental unit we could gain entrance to here in SF city, and out of 6 or so we found 2 that might be okay for us as a first home here. We see Berkeley places tomorrow, and may even buzz over to Sausalito later in the week. After dinner with friends last night, we drove all the way up to the 2nd tallest peak in the CIty (Mt. Davidson) and visited the charming, utterly suburban community of MiraLoma, and I felt like we were in the Hollywood Hills! I expected a coyote to howl at any moment. It was lovely . ANd the entire CIty and Bay lay in front of us, from where our friend David's house sits. His house is charming as well.

BUT WOULD OUR BABY GRAND fit through the DOOR? And thus the theme of my insomnia: what do we do with all the stuff that has defined at least my life so far? What the HELL do we do with it?? Am I my STUFF? I fear, at this point, that to some degree, I have to answer "yes I am". This is slightly dismaying, but, somehow also gloriously true, since I have spent a lifetime collecting these particular objects, especially the larger ones, like the baby grand piano that I bought 30 years ago for a mere $5000.00 brand new, and would now cost more - considerably more.

Look, I want to rid our life of as much needless junk as possible. But what do we then do with the stuff that is not junk? How much do we keep , knowing that our 1st transitional San Francisco place will be relatively small, and unable to contain all we have winnowed away to? I guess storage units are the answer...but...well...this early morning, I am totally overwhelmed by the prospect of all that lies ahead for us to do to move even by February, when our Abingdon house lease is ending. I simply cannot see it happening...the light has yet to appear at the end of this tunnel, so i am tired from roaming around in the dark of the unknown. BUt, for now, there is no other way.

I keep expecting some magical real estate to show up and make it clear what we should do. Maybe in Berkeley it will appear...but then, we'd be committing to at least a year in the East Bay, and we have no idea if that is truly useful or not yet. SO again, more stumbling in the dark.

Today, we are escaping from the manic-depressive flywheel of activity driven by my need to see places, places, places....I am giving Peter the day off! Myself too....and maybe the entire rest of the week here, except we probably should go to Berkeley to see a thing or two...(see?: I am relentless!)...we are going down to the Embarcadero district to see a marvelous thing: the British 360 degree PETER PAN, under a tent, with all sorts of flying all over the place, and with our premium tix, we get a backstage tour as well, showing us how the magic of it all is created...though we've been told that it is quite the seriously acted PETER PAN, with lots of good actors and excellent flying acrobats from sf.....so, i do look forward to what i've heard is rather dark version of the Barry story...and it was the first thing Peter said he wanted to do here..so, we are doing it! And I will jot down not a single rental property number if I see one! I promise.

Seeing this PETER PAN will rejuvenate our flagging artistic spirits...and if we need to, we'll see something at a small theatre in Berkeley as well. Most theaters around here seem to take their summers off to rest and refurbish, but I'm sure we can find something to feed our souls, even if it's just a great Thai cafe or a seriously wonderful Asian fusion place.....the food here has yet to disappoint.
And, frankly, the Bay is enough theatre for me,right now...the fog, the sun, the gulls, the boats...the constantly changing moods created by all those things....Sitting at an early morning table by the windows at Greens is one of my favorite seats in the entire City, and its only curtain when darkness falls, and even then, it's dynamic and interesting.

So - I need to get all this moving nonsense settled...i need to know we have a home here...and that i can get on with the important things...like a daily communing with that Bay...and the gulls, who I would like to begin naming and making personal friends of....yeah, I know: I will be a San Francisco bag lady in no time...and maybe THaT is the answer to my issues of personal property! Hmmm...nah! No way can a baby grand fit into a shopping cart.

xxev

Labels: San Francisco

Yes, indeed...it's 3:00 a,m, here on the Left Coast - and all is silent as a soft tomb, except for the mournful sounds of the fog horns off San Francisco Bay.

The night is dark, and I am awake in the warm glow of this living room lamp, listening. It's like hearing some sort of primitive animal ritual, and i imagine large - very large - prehistoric creatures that have come alive in the dark cloak of foggy night to meet and greet one another.

I don't remember when I have been this happy.

Though I am comfortable under this deep russet blanket knitted lovingly by Paul, a part of me wants to put on a warm sweater and three shawls and walk out into the feline black of Pierce Street, down to the Bay - only several blocks away - and commune with the creatures whose low voices I am hearing: they seem to be calling to me to come play. A most beautiful sound....punctuated by an occasional antiphony of higher-voiced horns replying to the resonant insistence of the larger horns: they seem to court one another.

I think about the boats and various crafts these fog horns are meant to guide, and I wonder who pilots them: Are these mythic water folks, cradling cups of hot coffee between cold hands, sleepily going about their daily work keeping the coastline supplied with various goods? Are the tips of their noses cold and wet, like human sea dogs? Have they had breakfast yet, and when they do, who cooks it for them? A crusty old bay dog of a boat chef, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth? Are they bundled against the chill wet morning? Did they ever want to do other things with their lives? Or are they so in love with the early morning horns that they have devoted their lives to them for eternity? As I sit hear listening to the ghostly concert of horn against horn, i can see how devotion could develop, and how a life lived in the fog could appeal.

Peter and i are on a week's break from the rigors of Barter, where the Summer season is coming to a close. We are scouting places to live here in San Francisco , since we will sooner than later be moving here, and we will be starting a new chapter of true adventure: a new city, new past-times, paid and otherwise....new selves, you might say. And we are both tremendously excited about it all. At my age, it's stunning to contemplate this shift, this seismic change from one coast to the other, but it's a contemplation long in coming: we have wanted to move to this fabulous city ever since we first came here together some 5 years ago to celebrate Paul's birthday....and now, after moving from NYC, spending several years back at Barter, we are finally making this move. This week is about finding out how we can do it with a bit more ease.

And i want to write. Here in San Francisco, I will be a writer, and even as I type those words - I want to write - I wonder how many countless people have written the same, as they have moved to this brilliant town. How many others have wakened to the sounds of these fog horns at 3:00 a.m. and rhapsodized in this way, inspired by their need to express themselves? Which leads me to believe this:

I shall now consider these after-hours fog horns as my official MUSES! So rather than envisioning them as enormous Tyrannosaurus Rex-like monsters, I now see them as large gorgeous women, draped in foggy splendor, singing out to me in their deepest richest alto and contralto voices, intoning to me "Come out here and be our free-est, feel your deepest, write your best! Let us guide you through the fog-drenched nights of your very soul, and trust us to get you where you need to go!"

Labels: San Francisco