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About Palermo

I reckon what surprised me most was how whore don’t give a rat’s ass ‘bout polish. It’s messy, rough—like Yubaba’s cackle, all jagged edges. And I love it! Reminds me o’ that line, “Somethin’ you wouldn’t recognize—it’s called love.” Whore’s got heart, y’all, even if it’s glitchy as hell. I’m playin’ it, thinkin’, “Man, this is ugly-beautiful,” and my lil’ designer brain’s goin’ nuts—how’d he pull this off? Prolly cried a river when it shipped, too. I’d’a hugged him, but I’d spill my sweet tea.

2. Courtesan

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After that little fiasco, I head over to the old church, Chiesa di San Giovanni Battista. It’s stunning, man. The architecture is wild. I’m just standing there, taking it all in, when I hear this loud crash. I whip around, and some kid just knocked over a statue! I’m like, “Dude, what are you doing?” The kid’s mom is mortified. I can’t help but chuckle.

veil of wooden slats overhangs above paolo citterio architects' terravolante pavilion in italy