Lost in SF |
Groundswell Institute |
Renegades on Stockton Ave was tucked away near the print shops and train tracks on my walk home from high school. I passed the black-painted windows each day; casually squinting at the front door with all the subtlety I could muster as a teen. Occasionally someone would step out for a smoke--I want to imagine a Tom-of-Finland daddy, but just as likely he was slacks and a button-up. A lighter would flick, my step would slow, and I'd watch his eyes drift across to me. In that gaze I saw a future self unlike anything I could understand at the time. I saw a welcoming. I saw my tribe. These photographs continue that quiet love affair.