I am finally here, here in Berkeley amongst the weird, strange, progressive, one-of-a-kinds that comprise this population on a hill. First impressions stick, and if there’s one thing I will be unable to fathom, it will be temperatures below 50 degrees. The lack of rain causing a supposed drought in Northern California seems to be generating endless amounts of consternation among locals, yet to me it just seems the exact embodiment of the Californi-way.

I had been to the Bay area once before with my sister and father looking at grad schools for my sister’s (at that point) burgeoning interest in a PhD program in psychology. Besides a day trip to Palo Alto and a stroll down Telegraph Ave, which for me meant walking into Ameoba (a glorified version of Boston’s Newbury Comics) and staying there, while my sister and dad gushed over the plethora of UCBerkeley swag, we spent all of our time in San Francisco. We did most of the standard tourist activities, driving across the Golden gate bridge, riding a street car to the sea port, dipping our toes in the clear blue Pacific, and playing pool at the Hilton. Where that visit was strictly concerned with firsts, first time in the Pacific, first time eating a California roll in California, first time seeing a real hippie, etc., this visit will be apropos becoming ensconced in the culture.

Going about my everyday life of attending classes, studying for exams, enjoying the company of old friends and cursing the heavens for the constant barrage of falling snow back in Boston, it is hard to remember that there are so many other people in other parts of the world doing interesting and relevant things that I don’t know of. For this reason, I am trying to utilize this short time I have on the west coast as a period of enlightenment and self-definition from which I will be able to travel back east and have a profound understanding of my interests and strengths as both a person and an artist.

When thinking of my past and events and persons that shaped who I am today I am often reminded of the lyrics from one of my favorite artists, Piebald;

“I was born in a small town outside of Boston I think most people that lived there being a predominantly white community would call it culturally sheltered while I would call it culturally disadvantaged”

Coming to Berkeley from Boston has been somewhat of a shock to me in regard to the people I have met. Everyone comes with a story, yet it seems the stories of Berkley-ites are just that much more intriguing. The university, creating a center for the town, acts as a beacon to attract the sophisticated, scholarly, and adept members of our society. All of which seem to have their own unique characteristics adding to the melting pot of a culturally diverse community.

I am excited to begin my work at 23HAM and I am excited to be working with the directors as well as my fellow acolytes of this organization. I feel that I will be able to learn quite a bit from all of them and hopefully, in exchange, return some knowledge I have gained from experiences I have had over the years of education both in and out of the classroom.