Berkeley

I went to a Cal track meet with my parents over spring break. It was a lot more fun to watch than I thought it would be—I don't like watching most sports, but most sports are games. It wasn't like dance, but it was sort of like watching dancers—people intense in their embodiment. I love that. I love watching how people are in their bodies, but especially those kinds of very-inhabiting people.

Later we went to a used bookstore that had a buy-3-get-1-free deal. I met a former sociology student in the social sciences cranny; he was talking to his friends about how black history texts always cover only the last four hundred years of black history...and I got excited about a German edition of one of the volumes of Paul Tillich's Systematic Theology, because it was quite easy for me to read. But then I realized it had been written originally in English, so what was the point of that.


Stadium.


Dad.


Camellias. (My favorite.)


Mural in downtown Berkeley.


And at the actual People's Park a block away.


Movements have been born here. It's mostly sleeping now, with homeless people sleeping in it.