Fog City

Since I'm trying to catch up and make my blog current, here's more. I'm staring. Staring is part of my quest for calm, and my expansive view provided by wall to ceiling windows, helps immeasurably. The sun's lower, winter, trajectory creates long shadows. Long shadows, for me, trigger waves of nostalgia. Nostalgia for what? Certainly not a fractured youth, and all the missteps and wrong turns. But more a nostalgia for a sensibility, a vision, a day dream, a moment when you transcend the now, and soar. I was reminded recently of a transcendent sense which overwhelmed me some 40 years ago. I arrived in San Francisco, a self appointed dharma bum, and stumbled into Vesuvio's. Needless to say it was a revelation. I immersed myself. Wallowing in the open dialogue of artists and poets, transformed me, and I had found my mental center, in this salon society. I had cause to revisit such a sensibility a couple of weeks ago, as Vesuvio's was celebrating 65 years as an institution of

avant garde' intellectualism. I no longer frequent, with regularity, this haven, that nurtured and fostered my evolving thought process, but being there for this anniversary stirred more than a few grand memories.