above the fog

The similarities between San Francisco and Istanbul this morning end with the melancholic, melodic azan being sung somewhere beneath the fog. The past three weeks have melted into some kind of blurry dream, and as I sit here by the window, it hardly seems possible that they ever took place. In many ways I wish they hadn't; I would still have my grandad, but such wishes are pointless as this is precisely life. It comes and goes, much faster than we would like— which is why we must always do whatever we can to make what we have as beautiful and as true for ourselves as possible. Life has suffering and tremendous beauty— no matter how painful or ugly things can get, we must always remember great joys and wonderful things lie just on the other side, and are carried with us in our hearts through the hardship. There is always poetry, there is always love.

floating city

A pale morning in Istanbul.
I miss the sight of mountains.

spring?

Just when I thought winter had ended,
the sun ran off and took its warmth with it.

the poetry of fog

the park in fog

the de young tower / silhouette / a murder of crows / nasturtium
a path / a face / ghostly conservatory
symmetry / yellow / petals spear upward / dahlia

gilded fog

The sun made an appearance today, which was truly grand— and here's where the layering thing pays off: I ran over to The Mission from the cold and foggy area where I'm staying to have brunch at Boogaloos on Valencia Street. The Mission district is always warmer than the rest of the city. Today it was scarf, sweater and jacket in Nopa, and t-shirt and skirt weather in the Mission. So you either peel or add layers according to where you go in the city.

I don't think a visit to San Francisco is complete without a visit to The Mission. There are lots of wonderful cafés and fun shops to check out, and I do recommend a breakfast or brunch at Boogaloos— if you're there on a weekend, try the Eggs Valencia, it's a California take on an eggs benedict. Avocados and grilled tomatoes. Sadly, they had just ran out of avocados (which I thought was impossible in California) so I went with my next favourite, Polenta and Eggs.



* * *

Later in the afternoon I met my friend A at Alembic on Haight, a dark and sultry little bar/restaurant with the most divine cocktails. Don't expect to get a cosmo or a mojito here, these vintage cocktails are far more complex and I kid you not, there are layers of flavour. Pictured above is the Gilded Lily, a delicate mix of Plymouth gin, Chartreuse, orange flower water, sparkling demi-sec and a brilliant touch of gold leaf that catches the light in an oh-so fabulous way. These cocktails are meant to be enjoyed.

The fog rolled in full-force when we parted ways, and I was overwhelmed with nostalgia. I used walk home down Haight in the evenings after my trapeze class at Circus Center, feeling I was walking through the belly of some beast. The fog is alive here, it snakes around corners and crawls up the sides of buildings.