On Saturday, after lazing around the apartment, I walked to the beach (by the Bay, not the ocean) where I read, wrote, and watched people and dogs and kids at play. I came home, had dinner, and then walked to the Mission District to see the band Too Many Zooz. Walking along that beating artery that is Van Ness, I listed to some tunes. The streets, busy with traffic, felt desolate the way city streets can feel expansive and empty. There’s something about walking through a city at night that makes me feel like I’m a part of something bigger yet also entirely in my own space – on my own roads heading somewhere not yet defined. The traffic lights shimmer in the dark, the pavement under my feet and the starry sky above move like a movie reel. The people standing on street corners and waiting for busses after a long shift are beautiful and weary – their faces tell so many stories. Put on sad-ish tune or a good groove and there’s a film and soundtrack quality to the walk as though this, right here, is the montage of my life. These were some of those tunes:
The Mission was busy. Every restaurant and bar was crowded. Skaters rode through the intersections with that clack clack sound of wheels hitting bumps and cracks. With some time to kill before the show, I stopped in an art gallery where the current exhibit is on the theme home. They had a salsa band playing and people were dancing. The art, the music, and seeing people happy and dancing was an absolute joy that lasted the entire time I was there. If I’ve been trying to pay attention to those brief moments of joy that bring a reflexive smile to my face, spending time in the gallery was unique for how long those smiles lasted.
As for the concert, it exceeded my expectations. The opening act, Honeycomb, turned the place (a former church turned music venue) into a dance club with his beats and his beatboxing. Here’s a sample of his style, which doesn’t do justice to hearing it live with a massive sound system and a pumped up crowd.
The main act, who became famous with their busking videos in the subways of New York lit the place up. I didn’t take many videos because it was crowded and I wanted to bop along and enjoy the show. Apologies for quality and for cutting them short – live show, bad angles, people dancing.
As walked home, I was a little awestruck by the range of experiences I had in one day: beach, art, salsa music, beatbox and horns show… all within 15 minutes to an hour’s walking distance of where I live. It was the type of day that reminded me of why I moved out here: water, sunshine, music, people, and art. It was the type of day where I felt like I was writing my own soundtrack to this rich and fulfilling life which has nothing to do with money or work or status and everything to do with being attentive to the childlike wonder we can experience when we’re present in the world. This is what it feels like to be an enthusiastic participant in my own life.