Posted by: facetothewind | May 1, 2012

Pink snow and shadows on a sunny day

My trip to San Francisco this week has been super busy with work: 2 videos to produce, 2 photoshoots and a recording session for a client + cooking for a dinner party for 6 in honor of Arthur Tress. In the background I’ve been noticing more and more my invisibility as a 48 year old in San Francisco.

I found some comfort in hiding in shadows simply observing my surroundings and the younger people who have inherited the front line of this hectic city. I haven’t been communicating with that most special person in my life. Why is that? Perhaps testing the waters for old age loneliness. Perhaps finding my place on the park bench with the pigeons and trying to make peace with it. Maybe also resisting romantic pining and wistful longing to be young again. So this week here in this oh-so-romantic city, I’m doing my part to smother the romantic. I just don’t really wish to go there anymore…there’s nothing worse than a needy old man waiting for the phone to ring.

I’ve also noticed so much here, the younger generations being so dismissive and cold with each other. It’s Generation T for Texting. Or is it Generation Thumb? One can see them everywhere with heads ducked and thumbs flailing wildly. They’re wonderfully adept at turning themselves and others off when they’re done with them like a piece of technology. I’d rather have the park bench, the pigeons, and the shadows than try to compete with a smart phone for attention.

Still, there’s always something to learn from the younger generations and maybe I could learn to be a little less sensitive, a little more callous and detached. I could be less inquisitive and curious and concerned. I feel far too vulnerable and exposed to the vagaries of others at this stage in my life when I’m craving stability and intimacy. And maybe I need to learn to just detach and turn inward when I’m done with people, no before I’m done. No, before I’ve even started. It’s so terribly against my nature to do so. But my nature has ceased to be au courrant. Compassion, intimacy, and focused attention are considered very much old school sensibilities and it’s already a constant battle to keep from slipping into irrelevance. Maybe it’s just time to get with the program and detach.

Just call me Jonathan Livingston Pigeon.

* * *

And then out of the shadows comes Gregg Cassin.

We’ve known each other for about 18 years. He’s always been a joyful, compassionate, and bitchy person all rolled into one big playful package. I called him this evening after a work exhaustion repair nap and we agreed to run down to Hartford Street to see the cherry blossoms on the sidewalk. I noticed them yesterday, accumulating in petal eddies. We went down and scooped up the blossoms and played in the pink piles like it was snow.

Then we went on a freezing cold, windy walk through the neighborhood smelling the brugmansia and roses. Ended up at CafĂ© Flore for tea and pumpkin bread. Here’s the video:


Maybe I just need more friends like Gregg…people who will take time to smell the roses (and datura) and goof off in the petal eddies…though I did catch Gregg texting between bouts of throwing pink petals in the air.


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