Bohemian nights in Valencia where the gypsies shred violins into the coming dark “Rhythmic swells reverberate trough my lungs. The back streets of Valencia. Back street Europe. Romani enclaves and gypsy parts of town. We’ll sit here in the Plaça de la Virgen with our stiff sangria, smartly bashful in red-faced delerium. For it is Spring and the blossoms have begun to sing. A nod to blanco nerium” A poem to the City of Oranges. An Open Love Letter to the City of Valencia, Spain.
Despite the myriad distractions of the modern world, the noise pollution, and all those 21st-century distractions, we are extremely fortunate to live in the Age of Information. I don’t know about you but I for one am prone to info-overload with a somewhat sadistic habit of opening dozens of browsers, windows which I proceed to overload with content, intent on returning… eventually… only to result in a frozen computer.