Back in the day—the late 1900s—Seattle had coffee carts. And bike messengers. And grunge music.
As a new arrival to the city in the fall of 1993, I was drinking it all in. Kurt Cobain and Eddie Vedder sang the angst and restlessness and search for freedom I had been wallowing in since leaving Buffalo. I grew my hair long, wore flannel shirts purchased from Kitchen Soup Brigade thrift shop on Capitol Hill, and was cast in plays that no one ever came to see at Pilgrim Center for the Arts. Continue reading… “In the Beginning”