Saturday, September 27, 2014

Folsom Street Fair 2014

Another Folsom Street Fair has come and gone. Funny how it becomes this weird time marker for me. I think it has to do with the fact that it was the first street fair I ever went to when I moved to San Francisco. In large part, I think the whole event is super ridiculous, BUT I would be super sad if it ever ceased to exist.  

Every year, I basically hang out in the same spot, Dore Alley beside the Powerhouse. Over time, I’ve started recognizing the same group of individuals who linger around that area too: nudists, cocksuckers, and piss pigs. Guys that I have numerous photos of, it's like I’m their personal documentarian from event to event.  

Within that environment of excessive sexual behavior, strutting, and chest pounding (so to speak), there occasionally exists moments that are so plain and ordinary that they stick out like a good pair of shoes. It’s because of those moments that I love going to Folsom Street Fair so much. It's those moments I love capturing.   

The link below will take you to an 18+/adult content wall. So enjoy, or move along. 

Saturday, September 6, 2014

It's kinda like this scene from Donnie Darko.

A few months ago, I started writing a piece about the awkwardness of group texting with my siblings. It was somewhat humorous, completely spot-on, and full of realizations about how I process information and context in relation to my other family members. I had written about the entire episode, complete with a little dose of family dynamics and history. After some thinking, I decided to delete it instead of publishing it on this blog. It was a moment of realization that my siblings might not find (over)sharing with the world as cathartic as I do.

In retrospect, I kinda regret deleting it. I haven't been publishing a lot of things on the blog this past year. Well, written things, anyway – plenty of photos, though. Anymore, when I write, I read over it and think, “Holy Hemingway, this sounds like shit, Batman!”

When I had stronger opinions, I found writing to be a lot easier. In a conversation with one of my brothers awhile back, I was telling him how living in Australia had changed me. During the time there, I was hyperengaged with American politics and I couldn't wait to move back, so I could become super active, possibly even volunteering for candidates, etc. However, after getting settled back in my old life, the desire went null and void. I'm not apathetic, I just couldn't care less about the incessant blah, blah, blah of left vs right discourse. Now, I avoid political discussions like the plague. Perhaps it's a factor of getting older, perhaps it's a factor of all of the social network app overkill, perhaps it's a factor of being an ex-expat. Most likely, it’s a combination of all three. It’s kinda like this scene from Donnie Darko: