It is early morning. Rode my scooter downtown through the crisp cold sun with the Flat Irons to my left. Jasmine Pearls. Nina Simone crooning, “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood.” - but the real spirit of the week is Jorge Ben singing, “Take It Easy My Brother, Charlie.”
I have been meeting wonderful people in Boulder (and Denver) these past weeks. Alot of creatives. Alot of chefs (who are also creatives of course). Alot of people talking about how people communicate.
My office is right above the OZO coffee shop in Boulder where every meeting seems to converge. Bands of runners exhale in front. Bikes posses cruise in. Highly caffeinated. I have a balcony you can sit at right above, spread out your Muji notebook (and your portable screens), drink that hair sprouting brew, sit in the sun, look out at the mountains, do your work. I met Jay Ferracane on the balcony. Jay rode in on the last wave that discovered Boulder. He is teaching me about introducing yourself to a new town. He’s organized a monthly talk, Caffeinated Mornings, for creatives that he has met. I am speaking there Dec. 7. So happy to become a part of this town.
Boulder is a community of people who make alot of good decisions. Who have figured out a way to work hard and live good, healthy, fun, creative lives. A place where you can get to the stuff you could never quite get to, which is saying alot. Where people let you in. Where people tell this stranger, “You are going to love Boulder, and Boulder is going to love you.” I know you bring your baggage everywhere you go. I also know there are certain evolutions in your life, almost like bridges you can go over and see things alittle more clearly.
A friend from LA asked me last night if I missed NY. I still work in NY, and have alot of friends and clients there. Enough people have told me how lucky I was to get out before the storm. That is not why I moved. What makes NY hard also makes it great. The promise of NY is there a thousand times a day - just before the curtain goes up, when the mortar and pestle hummus is served up at Balaboosta, that moment when the door swings open from the train station onto 7th avenue. All the hard edges. All the times your knees hit the seat in front of you. NY lives with you and without you. I just could not find in NY what I need right now. It is not NY’s fault. I just needed something I could not explain (even to myself). Life in Boulder is not laid back - it is just organized differently.
I write this to say. I am here. I am happy. I am there, too. Only now, it is for visits.
I got a call from a design firm in Atlanta this week who were not sure where I was living. “George, we have an assignment. Two days travel. Two days shooting." I asked the location. “Boulder.”