it's a little weird having empty days and quiet evenings. it makes me appreciate solitude in a bittersweet way. my stimulus is minimum except for the brat that yells at his mom in the apartment across the street and (i admit it) hours of internet. i feel a kind of sickness that requires i do the opposite of all that is around me: move about, consume. that's not to say i detest the operation of our society. on the contrary, i understand it, i appreciate it for what it's worth. but the details of such operation seem so superfluous and ultimately confusing to me. why are there five flavors of m&m's? why is every other woman pushing a baby stroller? (well.. i guess in panama it was young girls, too--and they carried their kids.) why does your car have to be new? are there really conversations about what pet groomer to go to? your run-of-the-mill culture shock, i guess, but that doesn't make the visuals of our little ant farm any less affective to one who's been out of it for 9 months. but, fine: to each his own. mine will just be a little different.
life of pi, rilke, and the first pages of botany of desire are keeping me company in deb's tempurpedic bed (now there's a product i have no problem consuming). her room has a west-facing window leading out to the fire escape, leading to the roof. i've found my new sanctuary. there is a nice view of the golden gate bridge, just to the northwest of us and the endless rooftops might as well be green hills, that's how majestic it feels up there. or maybe that's how majestic i feel up there. i have no problem staying in the apartment most of the day. it gets great light, i'm safe from the threat of the great m&m dilemma, the cupboards have almond butter in them & the fridge has spinach and farmers market strawberries. the only element missing is community, which puts a slightly painful twist on each day. todo con calma.
san francisco, my friends, is amazing. the city not only picks up recycling, but compost too. COMPOST. over half of a restaurant's waste is food waste. then the turn it into soil and sell it back to whoever. brilliant. i see billboards with solar panels on them. i think once i get back into ant farm mode, i will see more of these things, moreover, be apart of these things, and make my home in a little green corner of the world. more soon...
philly, i haven't forgotten...