Miami. The neon signs of the Art Deco District hotels, the vivid Caribbean colors of Litte Haiti, the pastel shades of South Beach.
The humid air is crowded with coffee and spices. I did not hurry. Not this time. As I walk down the street, suspended by a light breeze, I close my eyes and let the sun filter. I release myself from old habits, old memories and the beauty of the city tells me secret, meetings, voices, yawns unaware, flavors. I lose myself between old vinyl, among the shelves of a supermarket, cereal boxes, madonnas, votive candles and the moods of different cultures.
Bright. Relaxed. Head tilted back, eyes closed. This is my Miami city blues.