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I moved into a giant old Dogpatch artist's loft in San Francisco (near Potrero Hill) at a time when the 280 freeway was closed for earthquake repairs.  (And the illegal loft invasion had barely begun.)  Despite huge single pane windows some 3+ meters high, living there was heaven.  After a few years the freeway reopened, and the noise increase was so deafening and omnipresent it began to drive me nuts.

Not that weren't other factors.  ;-)

The roar increased with the traffic increase of the dotcom boom.  It was amplified by the cliff bordering the far side, and i longed for a sound wall or a row of trees.  They never came, partly because noise does not have any priority in a land where educating the children goes unfunded.

My noise disease is spreading.  I love the whoosh of windmill blades.

"Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage." - Ana´s Nin

by Crazy Horse on Fri Aug 24th, 2007 at 07:34:39 AM EST
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