Webzine2005 Conference - Part 1

I’m two days back from Webzine 2005 and I’m still marinating. I left Bakersfield late on Friday. As always, leaving meant a thousand errands to ensure I would have a positively positive webzine experience. I stayed with my friend Jan, an artist I met at an artist book class at the San Francisco Center for the Books Arts about three years ago. She lives in the Sunset district and you can see Golden Gate park from her house. I called Jan to confirm my stay. She said that I had to be there at 7:00 pm and better put my shoulder to the wheel so we could go to a Thai restaurant with some of her artist friends from out of town. Well, it was 6:30 pm and I was in Hayward. Nope, I wouldn’t make it by 7:00. I told her I would call her as I got close and she could give me directions. So, I’m on the Bay Bridge, its 7:00 pm and I realize I don’t have her cell phone number. Lovely. I’m sure she’ll call me. I hope she calls me because I'm hungry and really have to pee. I then proceed to drive around Mission and Market Street, hoping for a call, hoping for a parking spot, hoping I could pee. It was 7:45 pm. No call, no parking spot and well, you know the rest. By this time, I have resigned myself to parking anywhere and getting my city “tough face” on. Yes, I have a tough face. (I’ve had to use it on a few of my gallery artists for not being on time to drop off their work…you know who you are!)

I find a beautiful parking spot. I see a busy restaurant. I had a strange feeling. I’ve been here before. I was just driving around randomly solely focused on food and relief. I hike to the restaurant make the needed B-line to relief. I’m told a 45 minute wait or I could eat at the bar. I squeeze myself up to the bar. No stools, yet people were eating a full-course meal standing up. Only in San Francisco. I wedge myself between Mr. Fancy Pants and Nice Lady from Japan. Mr. FP took it upon himself to educate me on the menu. I decided on the Caesar salad. He loudly states, “Nice choice…it’s an authentic Caesar, well, except they don’t use a wooden bowl…they use a stainless steel bowl, but not by choice you know, there are health issues if they were to do that.” I’m glad I am getting an intimate verbal tour of my meal and I get to enjoy its authenticity standing up. It only seems deserving of such an ovation.

I state to NLJ that this place feels so familiar. My friend John took me to his gallery and it looked just like this area. Mr. FP butts in and says do you mean Lincart gallery?...becaues it is right across the alley. I look through the window and see, yes, it is John’s gallery. The current window display looks like a sporting goods store with book bags neatly filling up the window. This goes right back to my feeling of odd coincidences. A whole city with just one parking spot and it just so happens to be right across the street from John’s gallery. Synchronicity is there if you watch for it.

It was 9:30 pm, I get a call from Jan and she is home and I am thankful and tired. My authentic Caesar salad was OK (wooden bowls are a critical ingredient) and I’m ready to rest my brain for my big Webzine 2005 Conference!

Webzine 2005