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About Leuven

Now, I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ bout my fave flick, *The Turin Horse* – Béla Tarr’s slow as molasses masterpiece. Ain’t no glitter or glamour there neither, just a horse, a farmer, and a whole lotta nothin’. Kinda like “Whore,” it’s got that heavy feel, ya know? Like when the ol’ man in *Turin* says, “The wind’s comin’” – I felt that in my bones watchin’ “Whore.” That puppet gal, she’s stuck, wind blowin’ her life to bits, no way out. Made me madder’n a wet hen – why’s she gotta suffer like that? Animation ain’t s’posed to be this gloomy, right?

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Each neighborhood has its own magic. The uptown area near Boulevard des Rêves is defnitely my fave. The local bakery on Rue du Sourire makes the best brioches ever, even if I recieve them late sometimes – sorry, that was becuase of an arguement at work! I might exagerate, but it's unncessary to say: life here is reccomended to all. Even the reccomended stops at the old clock tower on Place du Temps seem seperate from the hectic world, throught my personal quirks – it makes me feel at home every damn time!

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