We stumbled on this wonderful gate on a walk in Inner Sunset the other day. It was all the more remarkable for its setting: the doorway of a completely nondescript row house.
Iron gates are an ugly, forbidding necessity, so we always feel grateful when someone's bothered to temper their 'keep out' message with a little love. This ironwork is so playful and gestural (like scribbles in the air) it feels welcoming. We found ourselves wondering who lives in the house. The smith him- or herself?
They're my next door neighbors. If you like the gate, you should see the Black 1953 Citroen in the garage.
Oh, forgot. This isn't the Inner Sunset. It's Cole Valley.
Are yor neighbors the makers of the gate?
I think Stanyan is the CV / IS boundary, no?
Far as I've ever known the UCSF and Arguello are the boundary. Snob appeal, I guess.
And no, they didn't make the gate, but the maker is a friend of their's.
Ah-ha! Well if they're interested in sharing their friend's name we'd be happy to post about him as a resource for other folks.
It is my gate. It was made by Eric Clausen of Clausen Irorn Works in Oakland. Eric is The guy I bought my Citroen from and also responsable for the gates to the Shakespear garden in Golden Gate Park.
Jay
Oh Yeah,
Though some may call it Cole Valley, some may call it lower Parnassus Hieghts, and some may not like to call it the Sunset, even of the inner variety.
A friend of mine put it well when he said I lived in Poly Keazar.