We were in San Francisco for a mini vacation and took a tour of the south of Market gallery area. This San Francisco gallery was airy and the assistant had great eyebrows and there was an interesting painting with the word penis in it and there was a colorful potted tree outside and a wall of tile and next thing I know I have a collage.
My wife and I were on the ferry from San Francisco to Sausalito. She had always wanted to go on it and never got around to it when she lived in the city. It was a very beautiful fall day, clear and warmer than one can ever hope for in San Francisco.
The woman was at the bow of the boat with her boyfriend speaking German. She seemed deep in thought looking out over the bay, the shore, not saying much, just thinking. She watched as a lone pine tree outlined itself against the sky as our ferry docked for a quick stop on Angel Island. Then she sat down facing the sun and leaned her head back to soak up the rays. I kept wondering what ideas and dreams were running through her mind (even if it was in German).
Later she stood and talked to her friend, and I noticed the really bright red stripe across her midriff, I think it was underwear, but I wasn’t sure. I loved how it stood out and snapped a couple of photos.
In the sunset district of San Francisco, October, 2007.
The gallery employee (I am imaging this but she probably isn’t, more likely a student or maybe a….no, I think I am right, a gallery something or other is likely) in the restaurant that I waited outside of while my wife went to the little girls room with the shoehorn (which wasn’t really in the restaurant, but a few doors down in the shoe store on a bench just sitting there by itself with a great reflection and I said it wrong, she didn’t go in the girl’s room with the shoehorn and the girls room did not have the shoehorn in it, just in case you got confused by my bad writing style) and the Avocados (which were in the market bin next to the tomatoes that were too red to put in the collage even though the photo had them in it and I liked how the red of the tomatoes brought out the red in the shoehorn, still it was too distracting) and the cleavage (which didn’t really belong to her, but to a woman on a bench in the bookstore at the magazine rack who I happened to walk by and noticed her necklace that was just a tad bit too far down her chest but it made me notice her) did it.
