image courtesy of Pilchuck Glass School
I first fell in love with neon when I was about six years old. Every few months, my Dad and I would drive from West Oakland into San Francisco for a special adventure. Our evening always started with hot chocolate and donuts in Chinatown—a treat that made me feel like anything was possible. But the real highlight came after: the neon tour.
We’d drive through the city at night, and I’d be captivated by the glowing signs lighting up Market Street. Back then, you could still drive the full stretch, and the streets were lined with vibrant, buzzing neon.
image courtesy of KQED
I can still remember the thrill of crossing the Bay Bridge, eagerly searching for the giant Coca-Cola sign that lit up the sky—a neon landmark that mesmerized me until it was converted to LED in 2010.
Coca Cola sign on the San Francisco skyline by .freeside. via Flickr (CC BY-NC-ND)
The lights seemed alive—dancing, shifting, and full of mystery. I didn’t know how they worked, but I was fascinated by the colors and the way they seemed to pulse with energy.
My Dad had a 1964 push-button Plymouth Valiant, and he’d drive up Jones Street or Filbert Street, put the car in neutral, and let us roll down the steep hills. It felt like a roller coaster, pure joy mixed with just enough thrill to make my heart race. I didn’t know he could still stop the car—I thought we were free-falling through the city. That feeling of exhilaration, combined with the glow of neon signs, made every trip magical.
What I didn’t realize back then was that each neon sign I loved was crafted by hand—each bend of glass, each spark of light, carefully made by someone with skill and vision. I was simply mesmerized by the glow, by how it transformed the city into something electric and full of wonder.
That joy, the way neon made the ordinary feel extraordinary, stayed with me. Those early experiences are what planted the seeds of my fascination. They connected joy, light, and adventure in a way I didn’t fully understand until decades later, when I began making neon art myself.
image courtesy of Pilchuck Glass School