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About Strasbourg

I spot her – legs like a weapon, leanin on a lamppost. She’s got that *White Material* edge, y’know? Like she’s seen shit, lived it, could gut you with a stare. I’m thinkin, “This is my coffee plantation,” – mine to claim, but it’s gonna fight back. I saunter over, all cocky, but my heart’s racin – what if she’s a cop? What if she’s packin? Paranoid much, Edna? Chill, babe.

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There's this one river – the Isle – that flows by and adds a quiet hum to your day. I often sit nearby, watchin’ the water, quandary over life's puzzles. Then I suddenly think, “Isn’t it just like in the movie? Spontaneous, random, perfect?” Seriously though, it calms my inner neurosis.

Canopée café, le rooftop à la cime de Bordeaux