Flying and Falling

I took to the sky
Imaginary wings beating into the void of space
Earth rises to meet my gaze
Tumbling uncontrolled it vanishes once again
Am I falling to my death
Am I only floundering every direction up
Horizons rolls into view
Brightest points of light chipping away blue crescents
I think for a moment
How beautiful are the simplest things

The darkness becomes the light
Flying and falling again and again

Saying Goodbye to My Home.

With a very heavy heart, I must leave San Francisco. The place I have called home for over 4 years. The tech industry has both powered and ruined this great city. The rent on my apartment will double the day I move out. Some high paid programmer and his girlfriend will likely be the only people to afford where I live now. Tech has sustained me for 18+ years. It has afforded me a life most would be very satisfied with. Yet it has taken my health and my sanity. I am very good at what I do. But ask me if I enjoy it anymore.

It only takes a few too many bad experiences and unemployment streaks to break a person here. I have had 8 different jobs in 4 years. The startup world can be brutal as war. I gave it my best. I worked my ass off. I put up with an overwhelmingly male driven career field. Unless you are a woman you can never understand what that is like. I have some amazing triumphs in Tech. Many of you see my work daily on various retail and entertainment sites based in Northern California. I am proud of what I achieved. And honored to have worked with some truly phenomenal people here in San Francisco. A few are my friends now and forever. I will miss many things here. Especially the dreams I had that were never fulfilled.

My future lies in my past now. I started off in this world as a full on creative doing production art in a small regional ad agency back east. I still have a piece of the artboard that covered my drafting table when I left as Art Director. I rocked graphic design and photo retouching. I drew constantly. I was deep into ceramic arts, even building my own kilns with another artist.

Now 48, I paint, draw, do photography and even record my music after nearly 15 years out of the arts, in preparation of a complete cold start back to a new old career. My brother asked to me to get back into ceramics last night. He is not the fist. I am amazing with my hands and I will when I land. I am not sure where I will land. For now I will be homeless and jobless. I will survive on a short sabbatical because of the support and love of family and friends.

What I can say is I will move somewhere more laid back, much less expensive where I can eventually have a yard and hopefully my own house and art studio. I will miss the mega conveniences of this most walkable city. But I will gain more freedom to create. I will not miss the near constant worry of how to just get by when most of what I earned went to rent, food, taxes and parking tickets. I will miss a few friends I have made up here. I will not miss the egotistical, ladder climbers that infest and gentrify this city.

I read almost daily about more and more people actually being driven out of San Francisco because of evictions by greedy landlords and a cost of living so high teachers, cooks, barista, artists, musicians, and even life long residents of the city can not afford to live in the city. As for the homeless that litter the streets, they say there are well over 5000 homeless living on the streets here. More daily. There are growing tent cities expanding under the highway around Cesar Chavez and Bayview Ave. Real tent cities of firmly encamped people with furniture and children no less! This is nothing short of a tragedy. The dirty underbelly of technology running wild making millionaires and ignoring the poor. This is a city of mass consumption too. It is easy to fall into that trap. Drugs and alcohol are the norm here. I have seen friends take it much too far. I have seen wasted wrecks of meth users convulsing on the sidewalks and drunks passed out face first in the street. This city WILL eat you alive if you let it.

I will leave this city in tears. Because it is a beautiful, eclectic melting pot of every culture you can imagine. Where it does not matter if you are gay, straight, bi, queer, trans, questioning, intersex, weird, artsy, scientific, nerdy, blue, tall, a bear, hipster, pony, unicorn or a furry. There is something for absolutely everyone here. I had so many hopes and dreams when I moved here over 4 years ago. For me I was never able to get that foothold I needed to make them all come true. That hurts the most. It will be hard to reconcile as I do not accept failure well.

But in some masochistic, ritual way I seem to have perfected, I will pack my shit and just leave as I have done many times before in other cities. I leave this city the same way I got here. Broke, unemployed and full of piss and vinegar and feeling much older. I will start completely over somewhere else with the same dreams and the same hopes I had almost 5 years ago when I decided, Fuck It! I am moving to San Francisco. And I will succeed one way or another. I am older and wiser now. I am experienced in “battle”. I can do this one more time. I just have too because that is what I do. I survive and keep moving forward no matter what.

Adieu et Bon Chance San Francisco.

Emptiness

Build my life upon these dreams
Comforts and cozies fill my thoughts
Returning to a place familiar and warm
Memories of achievement and joy
Love, yes love felt and expressed

The lie roles off my tongue like marbles on hill
Expressed yes, but not love
Comforts are facades hiding what lies behind
Dreams are more easily dashed than delivered
My achievement is this empty shell

Medicated my heart beats at a safer pace
Medicated the knife never draws blood
Medicated sleep without dreaming is peace
Medicated darkness is not so cold
Medicated is no life to be wished on anyone

Suicidal thoughts, Can anything be more frightening
How do you take a life without the mess
How do you take a life without hurting everyone you love
You cannot
I will not

Survival is a skill perfected by years of practice
Battles lost and won in my mind
The physical toll evidence in the lines on my face
The blanks stares, the tears and distant presence
The unseen damaged liver and once failed kidneys

Everything hurts some days, everything
The deepest pain is beyond human touch
Why do I keep fighting against this unwelcoming tied
I just do, a promise to myself and my loves
The hardest part of fighting the emptiness…

There is nothing there to take a swing at

Perception of Time

I looked into the sun and sneezed as my eyes watered and my face felt warm deep into my skull. A 5 year old really does not know any better. Mom held my hand as I cried, blood still fresh on my arm and my clothes. The doctor tried to ease the pain, but the cut was deep to the bone. A 10 year old and a new pocket knife are the first of many hard lessons one can only learn and not be taught.

As I looked out over the ocean towards a distant horizon, I became smaller as the world grew in size around me. The sun set and darkness fell upon the moonless waters. My hands disappeared before me. Startled by unfamiliar sounds and the roar of crashing waves, I sought refuge and safety within. Eyes closed, only the wind leaves tactile traces of the outside world. A waking dream. Floating on the ocean in a boat of own my making. At thirty one only begins to comprehend the scope of the universe and her place on Earth.

The time in between is perceived in growing increments of ever faster moving time. At 48 I remember seeing that 5 year old standing on the side of the road, her gaze always upwards. I remember the sun, the blood and the pain, laughter, love, the open ocean 100 miles from shore and a lifetime of living with spectacular highs and crushing lows. I look back and see that little girl is me and she is still looking to the sky and out in to the distance as the journey unfolds.