Shaina took this picture. We were at Suttro Baths. It was pretty cold and I was upset, and I dominated much of the conversation, but Sophie and Shaina both gave me great advice (I can't remember what I was upset about though). We went into that cave at the bottom of the road, and the sand was that lovely gritty texture under our shoes, Shaina walked out in front of us, I was feeling much better by the end of it. Oh!The dress, my coat, those shoes. Now I remember. That was the week of the Cooper Union application. That was the night I took off the jean jacket to show off my pretty dress at Academy of Art University photography dinner and lecture. It's back, that piece of history, in my blood, thanks to this photo. All the important parts. Shaina and Sophie, the cave, that drive through North Beach, the three-course meal, taking off my coat, the amphitheater in the rain, the drive back to Fell St., that fear I had lodged between my throat and my sternum, the breaking up of that fear a week after, in my bedroom in Oakland.
It's funny how our past is lost to us, in small, incremental parts that we don't notice––until it returns, in this wonderful displaced-time-warp way. Hooray to triggers.