Found in Red
A love letter to San Francisco, written one red note at at time
Found in Red is a love letter to San Francisco, composed one red note at a time. This series uses the color red as a unifying thread, weaving through neighborhoods and layered stories. Through everyday scenes and overlooked details, each photograph captures a quiet moment of connection within the rhythm of urban life. Whether it is a string of lanterns, a faded sign, or a spray-painted heart on a crumbling wall above the sea, these images offer an intimate view of the city. Together, they create a visual portrait that moves through spaces both familiar and unexpected.
Cupid’s Span, Embarcadero
A red arrow aims high above the Embarcadero, playful and still. The couple resting nearby anchors the moment in something quiet. It felt like a natural place to begin, at the edge of the city where the light stretches wide.
Chinatown Lanterns
Lanterns hang in the air like punctuation, soft against the sky. Below them, the city shifts. I paused here for the way old and new seemed to hold each other without tension.
Man and Streetcar, Market Street
He crossed the tracks just as the streetcar came into view. The frame felt balanced for a second. Motion, pause, motion again. I keep thinking about how rhythm lives in these in-between places.
Carousel + Child, Pier 39
The child stood still while the carousel turned. Colors blurred, music played, and something about that small pause in the middle of movement stayed with me. It was a gentle kind of watching.
Cable Car on Red Tracks
The tracks rise and vanish into the light. For a moment, the cable car lined up just right. A piece of the city’s rhythm, moving forward. I did not plan this shot, but it felt familiar when I saw it.
Round House Cafe, Golden Gate Bridge Plaza
Just steps from the bridge, this café curves like a quiet invitation. The red trim caught my eye, but it was the way the building held space that made me stop. It felt like a breath between places.
Love Locks, Pier 39
Love makes us want to leave something behind. A name, a date, a mark that says we were here. These locks carry so many small hopes. Bright colors. Worn edges. Tiny declarations.
Golden Gate Detail, Golden Gate Bridge
The closer I looked, the more the surface revealed. Layers of paint. Soft rust. Lines and light. I stayed longer than I meant to.
Red Chair + Blue Cap, Presidio Tunnel Tops
I do not know who he was or how long he sat there, but the stillness stayed with me. The bridge in the distance, the fog rolling in, and one quiet moment held in place.
Ice Cream Van, Marina Green
It felt like summer. The red van, the umbrella, the kid at the window. A small scene unfolding at the edge of the sidewalk, full of sweetness and pause.
Ross Alley Mural, Chinatown
This wall felt alive. Posters layered over street art, pieces of thought left behind. I do not know the full story, but that is part of what pulled me in. I keep thinking about how walls can listen too.
Red-Roofed House, Crissy Field
The white building stood tall behind the palms. I waited, watching the light shift. When a cyclist passed in red, it felt like everything fell into place.
Yoda Heart Sculpture, Union Square
This sculpture makes me laugh every time I see it. A heart, a quote, and a little bit of Jedi wisdom, all tucked into a city staircase. It is playful, and somehow still manages to feel true.
Graffiti Heart, Sutro Baths
I always come back to Sutro. Wind, ruin, ocean, stone. This heart was spray-painted on the wall, faded and bright all at once. A soft mark in a weathered place.
Li Po Lounge at Night
The lights were low and the street was quiet. I passed this corner often, but something about it at night made me stop. The sign glowed gently, like it had always been there.
Lantern Alley, Chinatown
This alley felt like a scene that built itself. Lanterns above, murals to the side, a motorcycle waiting nearby. Layers and layers, but nothing felt forced.
Surfer and Golden Gate Bridge
This felt like the right place to end. The surfer walking toward the water. The bridge rising through the mist. The shoreline fading into sky. It is not a conclusion. Just a quiet note before the story continues.