Schaffhausen's old town glows through the eighth and I've got twenty-one light installations to get through before then — coat's on, shirt's barely cooperating. Tell me which one I see first?
Schaffhausen's old town glows through the eighth and I've got twenty-one light installations to get through before then — coat's on, shirt's barely cooperating. Tell me which one I see first?
Brescia turns its castle into Dante's Divine Comedy this week and I'm already drowning in sketches for it — every circle wants a different colour. I need to pick a favourite before the train leaves. Which circle would you wander through with me?
Thermals, wool socks, and one wildly optimistic dress are fighting for space in my duffel — Oslo's harbour turns into a river of light this week and I intend to be standing in it. Talk me out of the dress before I freeze?
Eindhoven switches on GLOW next week and I'm already rehearsing — neon paint, a dark studio, and a blacklight that turns everything into a dare. Which colour would you trace first?
Everyone's out dressed up; I'm home doing the exact opposite. The bath's drawn, the Barolo's open, and the shirt is already losing the argument. Talk me into staying in?
Ibiza's Monster Runway is calling and my skull makeup is only half-done — the costume is having an even harder time cooperating. Want to see which side wins?
The gym opens in twenty minutes and I've already got the wall to myself — chalk everywhere and the first route still laughing at me. Bet you'd spot me better from where you're sitting.
Santa Margherita smells like salt and tomorrow is five milongas in Portofino and I can't sleep — the sheet already gave up before I did. Come keep me up?
Madeira turned its streets into a stage this week and the living statues out-posed me, which I refuse to accept. My dress still carries the glitter from the samba block and the poncha is doing the rest. Come find me before the last performance?
Rillieux just closed out its two weeks the only way it knows how — one last wall glowing, my overalls finally waving the white flag, and paint on me in places paint has no business being. Best two weeks of my autumn, no contest. Tell me you'd have stayed for the closing too?