Within the first few weeks of moving to this city, I recall waiting for a bus downtown in the dark hard rain. I watched the busy intersection in front me, congested with damp commuters trying to get home, and incredulously, a commuter biking up the steep hill. Cold, wet, and dispirited from the lack of […]
I went to Balboa Park with little research and limited time. Innumerable folks spoke of this park with reverence and advised me to visit, so I hastily pulled myself out of a nap and drove over. As expected, I couldn’t see it all. I hurried my steps between strollers and flocks of teenagers to as
I have been here for four years already. Weeks ago during a road trip stop at Ruby Beach, I met a charming middle-aged couple from Michigan. They shared that they were enjoying a leisurely exploration of the Pacific Northwest after their two children had recently graduated from university. He asked me how long out of
I walk to my car in the midnight light, and it is damn cold. Quiet. I glance to my left, down the hill and over the bay, at the lights from the Port. It’s a bleary mirage that reminds me of fireflies back in Michigan, delicately illuminating a summer evening. But already, it is October,
During the tour, we walked through the spaces in which Mr. Wright enjoyed entertaining guests. I imagined winters here: grand fireplaces roaring, lounging with good company while indulging in the finer things in life. A winter desert retreat. And so, when our guide asked if I wanted to play the pianos we came across (like
THE PIANO AT TALIESIN WEST Read More »