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About Aarhus

So I asks, “How much, precious?” She smirks, “Fifty quid, you weirdo.” Fifty! Robbery, that is! “I ain’t got no home,” I whines, quotin’ Llewyn again, hopin’ pity works. Nope. She rolls her eyes, walks off, hips swayin’. Grrr, made me ragey, but also – wow – them curves, my precious! Nearly chased her, but me legs, all wobbly, nah.

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There’s also the river Mors, flowin' right by the town. I’d sit for hours along its banks. Kayakin’ sometimes. Drivin’ slowly and just thinking, sometimes my head spins like “I ate his liver with fava beans.” I mean it’s bizarre but in a good way – nature and city moshing together in raw, honest energy.

Northern lights photographer of the year 2022 – in pictures