Wandering a museum full of the works of friends and collegues, none of which was really made initially as art, but as a way of interacting with the world — which is of course art. Explaining to a Cuban gentleman via a translator how a QR code works. He had never seen a smart phone before. My aunt smiling in the background, pleased at culture being created and shared across generations and experiences.
Searching for a can of lentil soup. Forgetting for a just a moment what city I am in, knowing only that this grocery store is like so many others, and yet so distinctly different. It’s one of those that tries desperately to be Local, but comes across as universally green washed (and delicious). Am I in a gentrified part of Berlin? In a Queen Anne shop in Seattle? In Williamsburg in NYC? Oh no, this is San Francisco. What is transit like here again?
Same person who put me in the plane JFK>SFO is waiting to pick me up in DCA. The mayor of my layover airport has a user image of a “FALL RISK” bracelet, exactly like the two put on my wrist in SFO for very charming and different reasons.
Watching friends all over the globe support and participate in protest, mourning, joy, and creation. Comments to track police activity next to posts about beautiful tattoos next to well wishes next to waking remarks from people 6 hours in the future. A new dear friend making me laugh from 2 time zones away by anthropomorphizing autocorrect. We’re not settling on simply stating what is wrong, we are creating what will take us into the future.
Finding a love note of sorts wrapped tightly around a nerd pin, lodged in a film canister, deep in my luggage. It’s written on a Berlin rail pass, making the heart strings twinge in more than a few ways.
There have also been incredibly long walks, and blue hair on dead trees, and robotic hearts sent over the ethers. I’ve used 3D displays, been handed 20 Kroners by an Icelander, tied balloons to a man in a denim suit, and played skeeball by the Atlantic.
Seattle in another 30 minutes (this will be posted later, no doubt) – one of the only two places I think “I could stay here” whenever I land. Here are my closest friends, my motorcycle, and a bed I bought. There are things called hangers, and a desk with a filing cabinet, and a cat next door.
And now I’ve landed, and been greeted in the rain by a kind heart with a lovely smile. And someone took a scrub brush to my apartment, and there are fresh flowers and local milk, and the windows have been open just long enough for a breeze. There is also a ninja sword and a surprisingly interesting bottle of wine. What a lovely life, all the parts. I may be the luckiest robot on this pale blue dot.