Cage quote

in

The more I live, the more this quote is becoming resonant with me. I clipped it from the NYTimes many many years ago, as if it called out to me in advance, aspirationally. The mind is a chatty thing.

Poem, 6/2

in ,

when i die, happy explosions will be yours.

we tried so hard, these tiny

atoms of consequence.

a billion letters never sent,

words i couldn’t express:

all will resolve, calmly

forming an other’s

quest for meaning.

Poem, 5/6

in ,

[with apologies to Edna St. Vincent Millay's Recuerdo]

it was very sunny, it was very hurried

we drove back and forth across the city

and i rented a mini, and drove it down lombard street

and i tried not to think it was like us:

lush, brief, beautiful, pretty;

popular attractions among many.

 

it was very foggy, it was very quiet

at the pho place with delicious complexity

like a library, a chain of libraries,

a template of noodles and tea.

during the day we sent postcards to our mothers

and pointed down at greenways hiding cars.

 

it was very brief, it was very sudden

the snap of a sheet, a city engulfed in flames

but to know i got close makes my chest hurt less.

it came close, but it came.

it was all for you, lover. my all, and all that i had.

Poem, 2/1

in ,

the first

morning we awoke together broke

fast on the first day of the first

month we talked of dreams and

planned our next re-

union. talking to the thai

order taker i heard vocalized in the re-

peated numbers a credit

to your kindness. registered. we

ate and watched stupid teevee,

wondering what resonates

enough to laugh. these

days repeated their thrust, pre-

dicting a sweet opening.

NY/SF: A Hypothesis

in ,

Throughout 2013, I’ve been spending a lot more time both in New York and in San Francisco, for personal and professional reasons. I’m a native New Yorker, born in Riverdale and raised in the burbs, and still consider NY “The City.” And even though I’ve regularly frequented SF over the past 10 years, averaging 3–5 extended trips per year, this year I’ve spent months at a time here, working as I am now from a friend’s desk with a view of the intersection of Haight & Laguna.

Proximity is one key to relationship development (among many others, like doing great work, being kind, networking, and having a little luck), and my increased time in SF has happily resulted in building business here (yay travel write-offs!). The more people I meet, the more fodder I have for developing a hypothesis about the vastly different cultures of both places.

At the root of this hypothesis is the influence that the physical & natural environment has on its culture:

New York has miles of concrete and verticality, and is vast in size, which informs a directness and solidity of communication; maybe its history or tradition influences this, too. It has volume, noise, individuals feel competitive even for sidewalk space, and there are extremes of weather.

San Francisco has little bedrock and crazy hills, and its 7x7 mile environment is ultraconcentrated with immense variety; things are subject to shift around every corner, and at any moment. There is an almost cosmic openness and tolerance for individuality and range of expression. Conversely, or for balance, there’s less of a variation in climate.

Having written this, I feel like I’m just beginning to learn a new language, or two.