Farley's is always the last place I step on San Francisco ground before I leave the city - and yesterday was no different. It's a nod to my first step in San Francisco last century.
As I got on 280 and sped south, I spied the Sutro tower and remembered it as I saw it each morning. My mind was thinking about the weekend. A woven braid reflecting my various selves. Dinner at a notorious restaurant, when in a previous life, an event occurred that catalyzed the falling of dominoes that ended in Los Angeles. The oak trees on 280. A favorite viewpoint and rest stop. Walking up the stairs of a San Francisco Victorian, which was like stepping into another century - a familiar one from my childhood. The booming devo-esque music from a San Jose club. Japanese. Conference rooms, panels, presentations and lots of really interesting people. Names I knew, now met. Faces I've met, meeting again. Stepping on the stage, microphone in hand, the fear of sharing something new, paradigm shifting dissolving as I spoke. Calling for collaboration, for mutual positive exploration. Satisfied with the results. Opening possibilities.
My favorite part was spent in a Western styled Victorian parlor getting to know two people better. Sharing books and ideas. Cut from the same cloth. The uncertainty of the unknown provided nothing but magical possibilities. Everything worked out wonderfully. Thank you to all.
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