Fog drapes the hillside on this spring morning, and the sun’s reflection gleams on Richardson Bay. Spanning two square miles and home to 7,000 residents, Sausalito, California is a haven for the inspired mind. Those eager to express their creativity find a home on its waters or its verdant hills. I first came to Sausalito in the summer of 2002 and felt immediately I would come to call this bayside village home. I can’t explain the feeling, but knew deep down this was where I was meant to be: truly at home, truly at peace.
Ten years later here I sit in my studio overlooking the bay surrounded by the reminders of why this place grasps the souls it has touched. To one side sits the famed recording studios The Plant, which hosted some of the biggest names in recording history: Fleetwood Mac, Aretha Franklin, Carlos Santana, Prince, and many other music legends. Otis Redding wrote Dock of the Bay living on a houseboat at nearby Waldo Point, and nowadays the ICB (Industrial Center Building) studios house artists who live and breathe their creations.
I look back to that first visit to Sausalito and how it almost never happened. The one person in my life who had been a constant source of love and inspiration was living in Sausalito at the time, yet we almost didn’t meet. Back in September, 2001, he was working in New York City the week leading up to the 9/11 terrorist attacks. He had a ticket to fly back to San Francisco on Flight 93 on September 11th, the flight that crashed down in Pennsylvania. For some reason a few days prior, he decided to change his flight and fly home early. We met the following spring. I often think back to that day and how different my life would be had he boarded that plane, and every September 11th I thank God he didn’t.
It somehow seems fitting now that it was Sausalito where I discovered my true calling, my purpose in life; where I discovered my authentic self. For as long as I can remember I loved to write and take photographs. Both came naturally to me but it didn’t start out as my chosen path. It wasn’t until the summer of 2010 before my work as a photographer was first officially recognized. One of my pieces was exhibited in conjunction with the Sausalito Art Festival, and soon I was encouraged to create a collection of my photographs. Following the festival I was introduced to a local resident. She looked at me, shook my hand and said, “Oh! You are the ARTIST!” For the first time that label felt right, as though I had been avoiding or running from it unknowingly.
Ten years later here I sit in my studio overlooking the bay surrounded by the reminders of why this place grasps the souls it has touched. To one side sits the famed recording studios The Plant, which hosted some of the biggest names in recording history: Fleetwood Mac, Aretha Franklin, Carlos Santana, Prince, and many other music legends. Otis Redding wrote Dock of the Bay living on a houseboat at nearby Waldo Point, and nowadays the ICB (Industrial Center Building) studios house artists who live and breathe their creations.
I look back to that first visit to Sausalito and how it almost never happened. The one person in my life who had been a constant source of love and inspiration was living in Sausalito at the time, yet we almost didn’t meet. Back in September, 2001, he was working in New York City the week leading up to the 9/11 terrorist attacks. He had a ticket to fly back to San Francisco on Flight 93 on September 11th, the flight that crashed down in Pennsylvania. For some reason a few days prior, he decided to change his flight and fly home early. We met the following spring. I often think back to that day and how different my life would be had he boarded that plane, and every September 11th I thank God he didn’t.
It somehow seems fitting now that it was Sausalito where I discovered my true calling, my purpose in life; where I discovered my authentic self. For as long as I can remember I loved to write and take photographs. Both came naturally to me but it didn’t start out as my chosen path. It wasn’t until the summer of 2010 before my work as a photographer was first officially recognized. One of my pieces was exhibited in conjunction with the Sausalito Art Festival, and soon I was encouraged to create a collection of my photographs. Following the festival I was introduced to a local resident. She looked at me, shook my hand and said, “Oh! You are the ARTIST!” For the first time that label felt right, as though I had been avoiding or running from it unknowingly.
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