The Greatest Adventure Is Had With the Heart

Contemplating my next move, the kindness of strangers, and the meaning of adventure

The card given to me by an artist in Oakland. Photo by the author at the airport.

Hours before my flight back to Los Angeles from San Francisco, my girlfriend Coco and I stop in Oakland for lunch. As we amble downtown, we pass an artist in his studio.

Both he and the paintings on the walls are dripping with style, color, and vibrancy; the studio door is open, and there’s a gravity that pulls us like the moon on the tides.

I can’t help but admire the fit, as the man dons a paint-splattered Japanese-style quilted green jacket, baggy jeans, sky-grey headphones and some gold reading frames. We pop our heads through the door without thinking.

“Why don’t you come all the way in?” he asks, smiling as he takes off his over-ear headphones.

“We’re headed to the airport,” responds Coco, not expecting a conversation, just wanting to tell him she likes his artwork. The paintings on the walls are charming and bright, pastel colors forming faces, the features made of natural elements like trees and leaves and branches.

He stops painting and saunters to the door — still smiling widely — to chat. We tell him we like it in Oakland, and might try living here. “Hang on,” he says, and he grabs a postcard…