Yerba Buena Gardens, Union Square, and Berkeley filled my hours and interest as I cruised around the Bay Area. These are small studies, sketches really. The first two locations helped to recall earlier experiences as a bicycle messenger in 1978. It was an insane job at a crazy time in my life. Being a bicycle messenger made you a member of a fraternal/sorotorial elite club. There were a lot of drugs, few rules and no brakes. Contrary to expectations, at the end of an 8 hour shift, you were pumped with energy and adrenaline. Like getting off skates, the sensation of moving would persist for an hour or so. Helmets were not required and laws were not enforced for bicycles in 78. It was the wild west.