Coming home March 1st, I took a right on San Leandro Street from 66th Ave and this is what I found. Layers of Oakland goodness.
1968 Karmann Ghia.
The light still makes me squint.
This is Uncle Chucky’s truck. It is parked at my grandmother’s house, which is occupied by her boyfriend. She swore that it would be there forever.
This is a carnival that I will never be able to attend because of the damn coronavirus. My father was a carny and I wanted to do a project in that regard. It had opened very recently; it was open this day and I should have just bought tickets and st
After taking a couple of photos of this Humber, Tim, the owner came out. It’s a 1965. He has had it for around 25 years. He liked my car, too. He said he used to have one and guessed it was a ‘67. He said it was the only year the flood lights were i
My rainbow flag is faded.
I think my family had that TV growing up. It lasted so long.
Drones wait their entire life to fly with the queen.
We walk by this curved archway on most days when we walk Calvin. Curved stucco archways will always remind me of my big grandma in Oakland. She had one just like it. She lived off Broadway Terrace, I loved that house. That basement was my childhood.
This day must have turned into the next, as they often do these days.
I have been seeing a lot more ice cream men in the neighborhood. Or maybe I’m just home more and they were always there. Either way, I scream for ice cream.
I wondered if all the stay in transportation would lessen the burden in our world. I was always told that pollution contributed to the color scheme in the sky. A week after the shelter in place, these clouds were pink. It takes as long as it takes.
And it’s almost as though another season has gone by, in far less than a month’s time.
It seems almost cruel. The distance between this chair and its pillow.
Please Love My Soul
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