Casey

Outside the new apartment
Cole Valley
Friday afternoon

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Let’s talk about moving for a bit.  The boxes.  The packing tape. The bubblewrap tangle of emotions that needs sorting through.  To a mover it must all look the same after a while.  But when you’re surveying the contents of your life laid out at your feet, moving becomes intensely personal.  It’s a time to mark exactly where you are on the map of where you want to be.

Until recently, I never imagined I would find my way here.  The trajectory of where I’ve lived is a short jump between New Jersey and Boston.  It wasn’t until my husband’s job asked the question, “San Francisco?” that we had to wonder, “Why not?”  So, in April of this year we came out to visit.  Like so many people before us, we said yes.  What can I say?  When San Francisco comes calling, you don’t turn her down.

This is a city formed by two continents pushing against each other over a fault, a movement like two hands collapsing together.  I like that image because it makes me think of surrender.  It reminds me that to love San Francisco enough to live here requires a certain amount of abandon.  I gave up so much to move to this city.  Friends.  Family.  Work. What I’ve discovered this first week, though, is that she gives back.

In seven days I’ve been fed by my neighbors, recognized by the guy at the hardware store, visited by old friends, and warmed by the sun. I’ve also been chilled by fog, honked at by drivers, sized up by an interviewer, and worried about the future.  That’s part of the education you get from living here, and San Francisco is a fantastic teacher.

After this first week of unpacking, I now have a whole new concept of space and how little I really need.  I’ve grown used to the rhythm of the N Judah train’s rumble past my window.  I’ve learned to be more open with people, and to sense more possibilities for myself.  I’m glad we decided to take a chance on this city.  This week I moved to San Francisco, and it’s exactly where I want to be.

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You can see a slideshow of Casey’s photoshoot here.

A special “before the story” post about Casey here.

Casey’s blog is http://www.gowestyoungcouple.tumblr.com/

The story behind the story: Casey

Hi Julie,

I came to your website as my husband and I moved out to San Francisco from Boston at the end of July.  Through a long series of soul/apartment searching we finally found our way to the Cole Valley neighborhood and a place we love.  Moving to SF was a huge leap of faith for me, but I knew instinctively that it was the right decision.  When I doubted myself, when yet another apartment fell through, when my biggest job interview yet ended with no follow-up phone call, yours was the website I visited.  I was hungry for stories of other people who felt this same, irrational love for a city that can drive you crazy sometimes.

Now, as I write, our furniture pods sit outside the house and the movers are due in a half hour  I’m about to officially become a San Franciscan and I want more than anything to document this time in my life.   I’ve never felt more open, never sensed more possibilities for myself than I do now.  Thank you for the support your website offered, and I hope I have the chance to contribute to your project.  It’s awesome.

Casey

***

A note from Julie:

When I started i live here:SF almost one and a half years ago, it was a wonderful way for me to practice  my skills in portraiture, and to provide a place for people to share their stories about the persistent attachment to the city we call home.

As the project has matured and grown, I am constantly inspired, engaged and surprised at how people find me, what their reasons are for volunteering. How these people are willing to share the nooks and crannies of the day-to-day places that mark their lives as well as glimpses into the way that San Francisco itself has become an integral part of their identities.

I’ve always let the subjects’ stories speak for themselves because there’s no need for me to interject my impressions or opinions. My photographic record of each person has been as far as I wish to go in influencing the stories that you read. But I realize now that the stories behind the stories, the way people find me or vice versa, have value and interest as well.

Casey’s message was one I wanted to share with you: it made me realize how important our communal sense of what this city represents (good, bad and indifferent) and what it means to share it with our fellows, our neighbors, our future friends and acquaintances.

When Casey sent me the email above, I was waiting in a Salvadorean restaurant in the Excelsior, on the advice of a native-born San Franciscan who told me it was his favorite place to get pupusas and tamales. I had just spent about two hours with this young man, walking around his neighborhood as he proudly introduced me to local friends we met along the way, as he shared his favorite restaurants and shops and sights with me.

I emailed Casey as soon as I got the message. I told her I had a crazy idea: could we take photos of her moving into her new apartment as part of her i live here:SF story? As soon as my hot food arrived, she had already replied with an enthusiastic YES, so I ate one pupusa quickly, and realizing that I was now too excited to eat the rest, packed the rest of the food to go. Magically, the J-Church and then the N-Judah arrived just when I needed them to, so I was on Casey’s doorstep not a half hour later, with hot Savaldorean food to share, straight from the Excelsior on advice of a new friend she had never met.

To me, that effortless and perfect convergence of the small things is why you—the people of San Francisco—inspire me endlessly. Thank you.

And we welcome you to San Francisco, Casey.

***

I’ll post Casey’s story soon, with the photos we took.

Christine

On Cole
Cole Valley
Saturday morning

***

There’s something about this place….something about how little cable cars climb big hills…something about how every house is its own piece of art…and something about how escaping to the parks or the other side of a hill puts you in a wonderland far from the city you have come to know.

I leave town every week and come back just for this place and the people it holds. I’m fortunate enough to meet new people on their way to visit the city, or on their way home from a weekend trip. Some of the ones who stand out are…

The couple who had never left Texas …when they boarded the plane, they had their rental car picked out and all the places in fisherman’s wharf to visit. When we landed, they had cocktail napkins full of my writing, listing places to see in Pac Heights, Haight Ashbury, the Presidio, and the Sunset…and promised me they would cancel their rental car.

Another woman, from Toronto, started crying in-front of me on her way home when she realized something was calling her back. She planned to go home, pack her bags, and head west. Though it was her first trip, she felt a calling to come back.

Like me and many of my friends, we don’t know what finally pushes us to move here, all we know is that once we got a taste of the city, our minds remained 100% preoccupied with being here. It’s a city that requires a leap a faith, detachment from high heels, scarves in the summer, and an open mind. But once you arrive, you won’t go back.