Perhaps one of the most heart-wrenching discoveries of adulthood is that people, even our closest friends, don’t, as it turns out, think about us all too often.
It’s been 47 days since I moved out of my apartment on Lyon Street. Since then I’ve spent time in Portland, Oregon; Brooklyn, New York; and Burlington, Vermont. Last Wednesday, I arrived back in San Francisco, where I’ll be living for the next three weeks.
Back in 2012, I funded Cesar Kuriyama’s project “1 Second Everyday”, an app he built and named after his TED talk of the same name. When the app was first released, I used it diligently, but over the course of several months I forgot, with increasing frequency, to record my one second of video each day, eventually stopping altogether. I had only recently purchased an iPhone, and while its video capability was comparable in quality to the digital camera I’d used previously, I wasn’t accustomed to casually shooting video.
In March, while I was in Sydney on a three-day layover, I spent what to some would seem an inordinate amount of time reading in coffee shops for a first-time visitor to the city. Don’t worry, I did some fun things while there, but what I love most about traveling is the opportunity to experience living there. In San Francisco I spend a great deal of time in cafés. They are comfortable, anonymous and lovely, postage-stamp-sized microcosms of the cities they occupy. And so I sat.
When I started writing every day at the beginning of this year, I did so with the sole intention of simply writing anything at all. I didn’t have topics or burning passions lined up to riff on. My pieces to date have been written on the spur of a moment, often fueled by a passing thought captured at the exact moment I sat down to write. For such ill planning, I’m pleased with some of the things I’ve written.