Imaginary Posters, Real Life

Did my vision come true?

A few years ago, when I had just moved to San Francisco, I would draw posters for imaginary events I wanted to attend. At the time this was a silly and surreal exercise, but looking back on these posters I realize that they were little vision boards for the life I wanted: one filled with community, nature, absurdity, and connection.

Rather than holding an abstract dream of things being different, it was helpful for me to be very specific about my vision for the future. I thought it would be interesting to revisit these posters, interpret what subconscious desires they represented, and see if my vision came true:

Neighborhood Smile Exchange: This was one of the first, if not the very first, poster I made. I was feeling disconnected from my neighbors and disappointed at myself for not being more friendly. Interacting with strangers often feels like a standoff: who will be nice, smile, and say hello first? Everyone is waiting for the other person to make the first move. I think this poster served as a great reminder for me to be intentional about making the first move and blasting them with eye contact and smile beams.

I posted this all around my neighborhood and left it on the counter of the coffee shop, where they decided to hang it in the window facing where hundreds of people stand in line every day. My cousin also hangs it in the window of the ice cream shop he owns 70 miles away. I like to think it made a difference - I feel like people are way more friendly now. Or maybe I am more friendly now. Or maybe it’s because I have a cute dog now.

The Golden Gate Park Tree Hugging Convention: I think I was longing to be more connected to nature, especially living blocks away from a giant urban park and rarely visiting it. I wanted to bask in natural beauty with other humans. After many park hangs, Bay to Breakers, Outside Lands, park runs, and bike commutes through the park, I feel I have accomplished this goal.

The Majestic Sea Lion Orchestra: I see this one as a deep longing to connect with animals and understand their unique languages. I have certainly accomplished this goal since adopting my dog, Winnie, who presents as a baby sea lion and challenges me to slow down and learn her language every day.

I posted this one around Pier 39 thinking that it would read clearly as parody. A tourist couple came up to me to confirm when the next performance would be. The sea lions resting their vocal chords before the show:

Hula Hoop Hoedown, All Ages: I was longing for pure fun. I’ve found a lot of this in San Francisco, but I’m still longing for more.

Magic Carpet Nudist Club: Wholesome frolicking. In nature. Uninhibited by clothing. Need I say more?