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About Philadelphia

In the end, I’d walk away, no sermon, no cash—just a nod. “Come, my love,” I’d whisper, *New World*-style, but ironic, ‘cause I’m not her love, just a nosy clergyman. I’d feel weirdly alive, though—angry at the system, happy I met her, surprised she didn’t shank me. “I can see Russia from my house!” I’d yell, laughin’, ‘cause I see *somethin’* now—grit, guts, the real damn world. Prostitutes ain’t just punchlines—they’re people, and I’m shook.

Champagne Wall

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I love the streets off the beaten track. I got a fave spot at a tucked-away park near South Galena Street. Not many know about it, but its vibe is mellow and raw – a hidden gem. I often lie on the grass during breaks to clear my head after a long day of kneads and oils. And let me tell ya, there's magic in it. I remember a day when a storm rolled in, and I was solo in that park – the wind howl, the leaves dancing; it was "so Ida" in its melody, calling to my inner poet.

Sunnyside Prescribed Fire north of Aspen planned on Monday