by charles pearson
Heads up, heads down, heads all around. We dig long horse faces. Heads.
Off the beaten path. . .
Sometimes it's all about timing. Sometimes it was just meant to be. But single moments, even if you're trying very hard to be aloof, doesn't endure in San Francisco. Moments always ends of up becoming shared moments with one other or many others. Color, race, sexuality, it doesn't matter. The city of summer love and wearing a flower in your hair never ended here, which makes San Francisco colorblind, special and so unique.
Portrait of a male ballet dancer in Union Square. The sky with an orange canvas is always beautiful at sunrise or sunset. Tomorrow, pics of Ocean Beach, which is never more beautiful than during a cold Pacific storm with extremely high waves. I am fully under the weather TONIGHT with a terrible cold that seems to have no end . . . Cheers!
Portrait of a Male ballet dancer