San Francisco
San Francisco. Visiting this place never gets old. No matter how many times I’ve been there, each one feels like its own adventure. I have always photographed the remains, the things that seemed to have been left behind by the people that inhabit the place. I never tire of walking the streets, finding back alleys, meeting new people, listening to the chinese tea salesman explain his trade, visiting the comedy clubs, ducking in and out of the restaurants, and exploring the museums. It’s unlike any city I’ve ever visited.
On this last trip my focus changed, as did my questions about the city and its residents. I began to ask myself….who are all of these people? Where did they come from? Why are they here? What does their home look like? How did that family end up here? How long does it take that old man to get to where he’s going? How can that guy take himself seriously wearing that?! Who decided that having a Starbucks in hand was the official sign that you were ready for the day? I don’t know why I have these questions, but I do. I want to know!
