I fear I may be suffering from the Sunday blues. I just spent the past two hours walking aimlessly around downtown, trying to take pictures for my photography class. Touring downtown by foot, with a camera around my neck was an open invitation for bums and weirdos to talk to me. I even managed to lure two building security guards away from their post. They came outside in the cold to inform me that I wasn't allowed to photograph the Hearst building. Post 9/11 you're evidently not allowed to take pictures of the two tall buildings in downtown.
It's nights like this that I wish I still lived in my beloved city. I would have plenty of photo opportunities in any given neighborhood. The Victorians, the hills, the cable cars, the parks, the bay, the GG bridge, the Embarcadero, Lombard Street, the ferry building, the Mrs. Doubtfire House. My list could go on and on. I have album upon album of scenic pictures of my beloved city. Even when I lived there, I acted like a Japanese tourist. I guess I knew I wouldn't live there forever, and always wanted to capture its beauty.
I'm starting to think maybe you have to leave a place, to realize where you want to be. I'm definitely suffering from the Sunday blues.
It's nights like this that I wish I still lived in my beloved city. I would have plenty of photo opportunities in any given neighborhood. The Victorians, the hills, the cable cars, the parks, the bay, the GG bridge, the Embarcadero, Lombard Street, the ferry building, the Mrs. Doubtfire House. My list could go on and on. I have album upon album of scenic pictures of my beloved city. Even when I lived there, I acted like a Japanese tourist. I guess I knew I wouldn't live there forever, and always wanted to capture its beauty.
I'm starting to think maybe you have to leave a place, to realize where you want to be. I'm definitely suffering from the Sunday blues.
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