There are some of us, being on the wrong side of Divisadero, who consider the 8:30 AM Southern bosom the better of this building’s boobs.
For the seven lakes, and by no man these verses:
Rain; empty river; a voyage,
Fire from frozen cloud, heavy rain in the twilight
Under the cabin roof was one lantern.
The reeds are heavy; bent;
and the bamboos speak as if weeping.
Autumn moon; hills rise about lakes
against sunset
Evening is like a curtain of cloud,
a blurr above ripples; and through it
sharp long spikes of the cinnamon,
a cold tune amid reeds.
Behind hill the monk’s bell
borne on the wind.
Sail passed here in April; may return in October
Boat fades in silver; slowly;
Sun blaze alone on the river.
Where wine flag catches the sunset
Sparse chimneys smoke in the cross light
Comes then snow scur on the river
And a world is covered with jade
Small boat floats like a lanthorn,
The flowing water closts as with cold. And at San Yin
they are a people of leisure.
Wild geese swoop to the sand-bar,
Clouds gather about the hole of the window
Broad water; geese line out with the autumn
Rooks clatter over the fishermen’s lanthorns,
A light moves on the north sky line;
where the young boys prod stones for shrimp.
In seventeen hundred came Tsing to these hill lakes.
A light moves on the South sky line.
State by creating riches shd. thereby get into debt?
This is infamy; this is Geryon.
This canal goes still to TenShi
Though the old king built it for pleasure
K E I M E N R A N K E I
K I U M A N M A N K E I
JITSU GETSU K O K W A
T A N FUKU T A N K A I
Sun up; work
sundown; to rest
dig well and drink of the water
dig field; eat of the grain
Imperial power is? and to us what is it?
The fourth; the dimension of stillness.
And the power over wild beasts.
Lately, a danger of becoming one of those softly sighing sorts who gazes at sunsets, engages in dopey moments of visual histrionics, starts mouthing off about cumulonimbus as though it’s a sex thing. Time to get steely again, eyes to the ground.
Do you suppose they love it as much as we, on the outside, do? Some kind of Randian structure, they don’t allow Ikea furniture.
I ran up unwinded, being used to the path, carrying the big Russian book I mostly didn’t read all day, enduring the stares of winded tourists who actively cursed the concierge who set them on their doomed path. All was forgive at the top of the stairs, of course, such a day as this is a gift, topped with a sort of candle.
Spent the day looking like a tourist. And you?
Let’s check in with the pigeon cam over at 6th & Market.
Well, hello there.
I am the alpha and the omega.
The Richmond District, a land of unrivaled pleasures, occasional intoxication, and a goodly quota of my friends.
You’re so dramatic sometimes.
The seams of the sky opened up and showed you everything. And truth be told, everything was not as you’d expected.
San Franciscans who cross the Bay to take pictures of their city are like pretty girls who prefer you wear mirrored glasses. All the better to see you, my darling.
Steampunk building wearing goggles, and an outsized cocktail fork trumpets a city’s culinary hubris.
49ers Mile Scenic Drive