My first night meeting Leeshawn again was on a Friday after training at a restaurant. She said her boyfriend was dj'ing at a place called Pops in the mission and that I should come down.We hadn't seen each other for five years or so either but had been keeping in touch over the phone pretty regularly. Her boyfriend was spinning mostly metal music and I found out that night that the hipsters have made their way to San Francisco as well. (and no, the guy in this photo is not her boyfriend. and no, he is not a hipster either)

If I closed my eyes and held my breath I swear I would think I was in Rome. Oh Civic Center.

Yes, yes, that's correct. Apparently inside you will find Zeus and Poseidon.

Mama trying on her best Statue of Liberty costume dress on for us. Then cho-co-lat cake and red wine. We realized that this photo was so much like one from twelve years earlier that we took on her birthday.

Two nights after I got to the hostel I found a sublet for one week near sixth and market. Not the best area, but it was a studio apartment that I would have to myself while the guy who lived there was going away for a week. He was an art writer and was headed off to Art Basel in Miami.The building smelled like some very strong cleaning product and there were shared bathrooms and showers. I kept wondering who lived on the other floors and what exactly they were disinfecting here . The window in the hallway that led to the fire escape was constantly open and a cold breeze blew the odors of the cleaning products all around. It was a loft bed and I realized I got bug bites the first two nights I was there so I decided to sleep on the futon for the rest of the week. I was safe after that. However, before I left I thoroughly sanitized all my things. Since there were no heavy curtains, I would wake up from the sun coming through every morning. One morning I woke up around 6:30 and I couldn't remember the last time I was up that early. I have to admit that there was something pleasant and serene about it. It made me wish I was more of a morning person. Everything outside was quiet and all of the people that occupied the back alleys of 6th street were asleep. The sun was just peeking up and tinting everything orange.

I moved to the Mission for a brief time. One day on my way home on the bus there was this unexpected parade of some sort happening.

I started a job finally and was about two weeks into it. I was living over in Russian Hill after a week and a half living in the Mission. One Saturday night I was walking back home from the restaurant, it was around two a.m. Everything seemed different. I realized I was still smiling.The air seemed more fresh, and I didn't even feel tired. I had just spent the past 7 hours laughing more than I had in the past year. I passed through all the strip clubs of North Beach with a smile on my face.The drunken thugs around me seeming invisible as I navigating my way around them. Past that through the quiet and empty streets near the green with their shop windows all closed for the day, with their chairs on tables awaiting the morning for people to come in and have espresso. The city felt like mine for a moment. I wandered up the tall hill toward Chestnut street, so deep into my own world that I didn't even notice how steep of a climb it was. I came across a door cracked open and beyond it was a courtyard surrounded by paintings lit up. I walked in and someone else had the same idea I did. We looked at the paintings and talked about them for a moment. He said he was a photographer. It was part of an art university here and this was one exhibit. After looking for a while at them I slinked back out. I continued toward what was home this week. When I got to the top of my street I looked down and all I can see was one long avenue with lights aligning the sides,stretching forward until it disappeared. The whole of the Richmond was spread out in front of me going into the distance. In the night when no one else is around is when you can really look, a place will let you in to see the other side of it. I realized that I felt so far from where I started before I left New York almost two months ago. I didn't realize how far until this moment. I took a photo, looked around me for another moment and took in where I was, then walked down the stairs.