I ask what she’d recommend in the area, and she enthuses about San Francisco’s easy access to nature, like Marin County and Point Reyes National Seashore, as well as a Berkeley tapas bar – “La Marcha, it has the best happy hour ever” – and Soul Motion Lab – “I go for… well, it’s called ‘conscious dance’, and it’s a little out there! I find it very liberating being in a space free of judgement and expectations.”
Noticing that most of these places are outside San Francisco proper, I ask if she spends most of her time out of the city. She pauses before replying, choosing her words carefully.
“With the tech boom and the changing demographic of the city, the culture of creativity isn’t as prominent in San Francisco itself. A lot of artists are having to move to the East Bay. I can’t actually afford to live in San Francisco, so I’ve been in Berkeley and Oakland. There are definite challenges to being an artist here, but there’s so much that’s amazing that it’s worth the struggles.”
I change the subject to something a little happier, and ask whether she’s had any particularly memorable requests. She laughs, and asks how rude she can be; I tell her Rough Guides readers are hard to shock.
“Last month at the Ferry Building, a man approached me. He was very polite and unassuming, and introduced me to the woman he was with, and in a roundabout way asked if I’d be willing to write a poem about… well, her vagina. I guess he just really loves it, in this worshipful, genuine way. She was into all this, finding it very amusing, so I said OK, I will happily write you a poem about your girlfriend’s vagina.”
We both break into laughter. “So yeah, I did it, and they liked the poem, and that was kind of it!”
She tells me too about the more painful poems she’s written – for people dealing with grief, loss, heartbreak – and of the personal tragedy which made her realise she had to focus on what she was passionate about.
“I do think that for some people it can be really healing to have a stranger reflect creatively back to you your struggles. Just to experience that process can be a wonderful thing… I love what I do in large part because of that. I get to see the full spectrum of human existence.”
She smiles warmly, telling me, “It’s really, truly been a gift. It’s changed my life, and the way that I interact with the world.”
Of course, I ask her to write a poem for me, and it is beautiful, funny, and well worth what I choose to pay for it. You can ask Afrose for one of your own on Instagram, or wait to stumble serendipitously on her tapping away on a typewriter some sunny San Francisco afternoon.
Sunshine Powers, owner of Love on Haight
On the corner of Haight Street and Masonic Avenue is a large old building, the ground floor covered in intricate patterns, from hot pink to electric blue to vibrant green. In the windows, mannequins lean jauntily in sequinned bodysuits and tie-dye T-shirts. Inside, the ceiling is draped with fabric, and there are even tie-dye baby grows for sale.
This is Love on Haight, and reigning over the whole colourful kingdom is Sunny Powers. The embodiment of good vibes, she’s a captivating jumble of red curls, bright fabrics, a brighter smile, and always something sparkly.
As she explains to me, though, she didn’t always feel so positive about this place.
“This shop is on the corner where I met my first boyfriend, got my first tie-dye, smoked my first bowl, got my first Grateful Dead ticket, and mourned the loss of Jerry Garcia. Eventually I went to college and had a totally different life. After moving back I didn’t want to come to the Haight… it was not what I wanted it to be. But you can’t just complain; you actually have to get in there and do something.”