The San Franicsco of my Dreams

Though it's been twenty years since I moved away, I still often visit San Francisco…in my dreams.

The City that exists there is a strange, twisted version of reality, and my visits are usually prompted by having run across a particularly nostalgic photo online that day.

Credit: JJMeeks

Most of those visits take place in the City at night (the photo above almost completely captures the vibe of these dreams) and usually in the Castro/ Upper Market area—if not exactly on the last street I lived before leaving. Streets are skewed. Getting from one point to another is…off. There are dirt roads in the heart of the City. Hills exist where there are none. I stumble across entire neighborhoods that I never knew existed—and only exist in that realm. Mission Street runs at a strange diagonal to other streets in the area and is bordered by multi-story Victorian buildings for its entire length.

Other times I find myself downtown, South of Market, or walking in absolutely cavernous underground MUNI tunnels between stations. I sometimes find myself on a MUNI train, encountering stations that do not exist in real life. My mind writes these obvious anomalies off by saying, "Oh, this must be that new station/line they opened."

The common thread that seems to run through these dreams is that of photography, or rather my inability to photograph anything I see. I come across the setting sun glinting off a building and think, "That's a fantastic shot!" and without fail my phone malfunctions. By the time I do get it working, the perfect shot has passed. I can't tell you how many absolutely gorgeous photos have been lost because the dream phone starts acting wonky. It's almost like I know I'm in a dream and think that if only I can photograph what I see and bring it back on my phone, it will prove I was really there.