INVEST LOVE

Sidewalk poetry on Cherokee Street. I don't completely agree with this. The ones who leave may need our love even more.        

THE SMELL OF POETRY

I've mentioned that Artica is nothing if not eclectic and free-wheeling. This man, who declined to give me his full name, had an ancient Underwood portable typewriter, one with a distinctive aroma to him. He claimed it was a century old, and it just might have been. He had small sheets of brightly colored paper, and would write you a little poem on request. He did one for my granddaughter, Ellie, which read:

we await, wondering

what is he writing?

anything can be.

the dance beat, bassy

speakers and sound system

recorded musicians uplift

and agitate the atmosphere

A Final Note From San Francisco

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Gotta get out and shoot some new local material. For now, a final image from San Francisco. In how many cities could you find this? This man sat on the sidewalk of The Embarcadero outside the Ferry Building. He provided poetry, much lacking in contemporary Western life, upon request. You tell him what it's worth to you. He will accept your donation, large or small, and summon the muse to his old manual typewriter. Art when you need it, whether rich or poor. That's poetry.


Finally, there is a new Arch photo on Gateway.