This blue marble

– and yet it spins

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Looking for life on Bourbon street


We strolled down Bourbon street, lost in film noir scenery. Neon lights and shadows surrounded seedy bars, where night people searched for the spirit of life, or tried to forget the very same. Never-minding the shades of craze between the Dungeon and strip clubs, we slipped into the Preservation Hall to witness a bunch of age-grayed cool cats jam the night away.

And the desperation of living faded in the face of pure light and true joy of being alive. They say clichés are true. Oh! such a lovely cliché is jazz on Bourbon street!


(New Orleans, Louisiana, USA; December 2013)

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Loving quirky N’awlins


New Orleans rocks. Where else can you spot a wolf playing the fiddle in the middle of the street? Where else can you ascend to a state of bliss by yummy creole food, every day?

And where else can you see a ghost lady walking on the top floor balcony of the most beautiful building on Bourbon street, brimming with centuries worth of anger at her infidel husband – whose mistress she first invited for tea and then buried alive in the wall?


(New Orleans, Louisiana, USA; December 2013)