rachelle + ava at home in the outer sunset, san francisco
what rhythms are you subject to? what rhythms do you choose? when do you have enough? what place does convention have? what are plans for? when do you abandon them?
if you’ve known me any length of time, you've heard of rachelle and ava. rachelle, much like all the women i surround myself with, is simultaneously strong and soft, overflowing with a vision for herself and the world, conscientious, questions convention, considers how her actions affect the earth present and future, loves deeply, gives, listens well, and is OPEN. 2000 miles have never weakened our bond. i think we've always felt in tune with one another from the day we met over vegan food 4.5 years ago. within ten minutes, we knew we were soulmate friends.
and rachelle's daughter, ava. i have grown to love her just as much. like her mother, an old soul with wise eyes. she lights up lives all over their neighborhood, and when she smiles it's like an exploding glitter emoji. i am grateful to be part of her life, and i can't wait to see her grow up. she's going to change lives.
the outer sunset of san francisco is perhaps the most healing and grounding place in the country i've known. it's rich in community. people know each other, they share meals, they buy one another's art. i experience the deepest sense of peace when i spend time there. the five days i spent there this past february were especially healing because the sun never ceased. the older i get, the more i want to be in the sun and warmth every single day (i might need to reconsider chicago... ;)).
you'll notice a lot of repetition in these scenes, which i prefer to think of as ritual. i always see so much beauty in the simplicity of days spent easing into mornings with coffee on the ocean, walks down the local streets for more coffee at trouble and andytown, daily fresh food pick-ups at the co-op, bread from outerlands, pop-ins at nearby shops to say hi, fish at hookfish, wine with friends in their apartments, storytelling, just hanging out in the window seat, turning records over every 30 minutes, the heart of real life just happening now. rhythms.
i also carried around my fave little film point-and-shoot camera. some of my favorite photos resulted from that decision.