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About Savanna-la-Mar

So, picture this: a gal, let’s call her Ruby, struttin’ down some dim alley. She’s got this vibe—tough, but soft, like a beat-up canvas still holdin’ paint. I saw one once, swear it, near a dive bar—fishnets ripped, smokin’ a cig like it’s her last. Made me sad, y’know? “What d’ya want from me?” she mighta said, straight outta “Caché,” all suspicious-like. Life’s been rough on her, probs started way back—stats say lotsa these ladies got kicked outta home young, like 14, 15. Ain’t that a punch in the gut? Pisses me off—where’s the happy clouds for them?

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I left the market feeling a bit defeated. But then, I heard music. Like, really good music. I followed the sound and found this street performer on Dockside Drive. He was playing the guitar and singing some reggae tunes. I couldn’t help but dance a little. It was infectious! I even threw a couple of bucks in his hat. Best moment of the day, hands down.

Juan González Mijares | Pedestrian egrets