Dinner on the porch tonight, homemade beef stew, cheap red wine . . . twilight in Sin City, more accurately described as Silly Town.
I never look out my windows, even after seven years here, without thinking, “Where the hell am I?” I guess that’s sort of the point.
Surreal Lloyd. A deconstructed aura of late afternoon angst. The tiered blue triangle motif provides real depth out into the dirty horizon.
No angst involved, for me. The disassociated feeling I have in Las Vegas is pleasant and calming to me. It’s sort of a floating sensation.