San Francisco at Dusk. March 2020 (Portra 300)

I fall in love with cities, more so the people. Wherever I go, I find myself present. Then I leave to the next with no expectations, still lingering in the former on repeat in my mind and ringing in my ears. The best part? I find myself constantly surprised in the new by the foreign atmosphere, aura, and people. I record for myself new memos: James singing Johnny Cash in Deerfield Beach, Florida, windchimes shingling in Macon, Georgia, guitarists riffing off at Sarasota Open Gap Preserve in Palo Alto. Soon…