grasswire

While walking towards a relaxed coffee with a colleague on Friday, I spotted this graffiti in old Ljubljana. For some reason, my first association was Roma singer. Strangely enough, I could almost picture the Almodovar-like atmosphere (remember the shivering “Paloma” from Hable con ella?) and the sound of acoustic guitars in the back. But not her voice. Not even a hint, as if I’d walked into the guitar solo part of the performance.
Call me odd, but there was something even odder on Ljubljana’s vegetable market on Friday. Everybody and their mother was buying sour cabbage and sour turnip, people were standing in cues of twenty or thirty. Not a usual sight, I must say.