i left my soles in san francisco

The soles of my feet, that is. My best friend and I have been walking for about 9 hours today. . . Chinatown, Union Square, Yerba Buena Arts Center, Clement Street, hanging off cable cars, cruising down Haight Ashbury and up Telegraph Hill. The weather is 70 degrees, the sky is blue, the fog was starting to gently puff into town as if it were from an old-fashioned perfume mister.

Let me not forget to tell you that we went to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. Not only is it a physically comfortable, visually exciting building, but the exhibits were lavishly sized, plenty to see and enjoy for each -- Martin Munkacsy, a forgotten but joyously gifted photographer, and Matisse: Painter as Sculptor. Go see what's at SFMOMA -- remember, exhibits will change depending on when you read this.

In the museum shop I found something I crave. Jewelry of sweet little flowers and humorous pet sketches by the Oakland artist Mark Poulin. He should expect an email from me when I get home and find some $.