June 1, 2001
San Francisco. Am here and can hardly believe it. Am so open, so ready to love this city, to hang onto its sky by my fingertips and swing. It's colder than I expected it to be--laughed, while shivering, at tank tops & sandals. There is something about sunshine, the BART, ocean. Realization beneath the blue: I must live in a city. Must pulsate with the rest of them, must join into this bloodstream, this life. Must press my ear to the sidewalk and hear the stampede. Then I must pick up my feet and run run into the sea.