For Whom The Belmont Tolls

My favorite walkable street, so far.

“No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend’s
Or of thine own were:
Any man’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; 
It tolls for thee.” — John Donne

Belmont at night, just as charming as Belmont during the day.

It reminds me of the poem above by John Donne, No Man Is An Island. The people here remind me of Belmont. They all come together to feel included but they are individuals. They are distinguishable as they come and go. Each person creating a different groove in the sidewalk with each step, different from the person in front, behind, or beside them. And I am involved in all of them; as they move, I move.

Here is my favorite place, The Gallery Bookstore.

I stumbled upon this wonderment by chance and on a whim. I was on my way to get something to eat at Aloha Poke, but them I noticed a bunch of books on display. Seemingly haphazard way of going about store visuals and I was drawn to it. Because it’s just a representation of this establishment runs. Bounded pieces of art and metaphors for the great minds who slaved over them. A showcase of anything you could know and learn.

Here is a sign of my other favorite place, The Music Exchange.

It’s my favorite place to buy music because it actually all of my favorite bands’ albums like Broken Social Scene, My Morning Jacket, and Margot and The Nuclear So and So’s. All of which are typically hard to find in the more convenient stores. The service is also a plus.

People here are close and together. These two walked like this for a substantially long amount of time. They were cohesive and they never broke.

And the lights make me feel nostalgic for a place I have only been in within dreams.

The Annoyance Theater & Bar

I came to see an open mic here last Saturday. The memory floods my senses with scents of fresh fries and burgers. If you keep walking, those savory scents are not far from the Annoyance Theater. I believe BIG & Littles is not too far from here.

I walked pass the Japanese Culture Center. A woman with blonde hair and a peacoat buttoned securely around her stands in the doorway. I don’t see her face but I can hear her voice. She is in front of young girl putting on her shoes while a man assists her.

The woman says, “Is it Sophia of Sophie?”
And then the man goes, “Sophie.”
The woman continues, “Sophie, I like your sweater!”

As I walk, small punctuations graze by in milliseconds. I think that’s the point of my favorite stretch of Belmont; it wants you to be busy, it wants you to be engaged. Belmont is a constant throughout the day. A constant of things to do, people to see, places to go. I like that. The feeling of movement, a progression of life. Relishing in the punctuations of a street is nice, but I’ve been doing that for a while. It’s nice to transition into something that will convince my feet and mind to dive into the rush.


Because of the charming businesses, the eclectic bunch of people, and the easy access make it the my favorite walkable avenue, so far. Belmont makes me feel like this song:

Belmont to me is the heavy beats of percussion, the reverb of of a melody, and the soft tuning of a violin.


I technically didn’t walk a block. I mostly looped up and down most of the time.