An artist who wears black and paints erotically with light
It is August 15, in the year 2000. In a few hours it will be midnight, and then the police will come. But for now, it’s party time. On a balmy evening in San Francisco, nearly a thousand artists and friends cram into one narrow block in the historic Mission District in a show of support for a local dance company that had lost its lease.
Some folks find themselves sailing, lost at sea, forever in search of dry land, never at a loss for water and storm. The same goes for entire families. Here’s a story about both.
It’s my first time here so I don’t know quite what to expect for the opening salvo, but all the other photographers are really jazzed up. Suddenly the crowd lining an empty Market Street breaks into a cheer at the tiger growl of motorcycles approaching in low gear. The parade has begun…