Art in The Haight

I need color in my life.  I need expressions of opinion emblazoned on street corners. I need some San Francisco and I need it now.  So, while my brain reels and my hip aches, my mind and I are puttin' some flowers in our hair.

We're hanging in The Haight. 

Years ago,  G'ma and Daddoooo stayed at this hotel, at the entrance to Golden Gate Park, with The Haight up behind them.  

 "It was different," was as judgmental as they got.

I'd have to agree.  we've got nothing like this in Tucson.

Who needs neon, anyway?

I love that the temporary fence on the right has decorations, too.

 For a moment, from the back seat of our Zip Car, those two under the OPEN sign looked real.

Are there words in there?  Action figures?  The aftermath of an explosion?

Some of it was creepy, but there was a line outside this pancake house in spite of the ghoul on the wall.

The political graffiti was inspiring. 

This woman with the sign in her face was much loved in the neighborhood...

or so said the wall.

Even the pocket parks are fun.

Don't get me wrong.
I love Tucson.
It's just that sometimes, every once in a while, when the mood strikes,
only San Francisco will do.