I love maps. To me, the maps are the future as well as the past all in one gorgeously printed page. Loaded with kinetic energy, they are what has happened countless times and what is about to happen, unrolling the world in front of you as fast or show as you can make your way and explaining how it got to be that way.
Archive for July, 2006
Finding a restaurant in a big city is much like sitting in front of a TV with way too many cable channels. You wander around demanding something better around the next corner, too spoiled by the obscene selection to possibly enjoy anything.
There’s something that happens at the end of the day, when the sun starts to set and the tourists all have gone away, leaving a quietness that settles all over like fog. It’s as though the energy from the masses that recently overwhelmed the place has receded and begins to slowly reverberate into a gentle rhythm, much like the rings in a lake after motor boat has speed by.
But that’s not what this week’s installment is about. This week’s is a little grittier.
Woke up this morning to the smell of Petaluma farm animals and the sound of a cow mooing. While this may not sound all that appealing, it was a good thing. It meant we were no longer in Palo Alto (albeit a very nice place with lovely people). After a week of hurry up and wait at Tim and Sunny’s house, we finally loaded up as much stuff as our little trailer can carry and shipped the rest off to the boat. But, most importantly we emptied our 30+ boxes out of Tim and Sunny’s garage – thanks guys!
Has it really only been a month? Seems like a lifetime already. I’m starting to feel a little guilty about not working. It’s bad enough that we pop in on friends in the middle of the week and expect them to be available for us, but there’s been more than one occasion when both Jackie and I have forgotten what day of the week it was.