Film by Katelan Foisy

This city could tell you a thousand stories whispered from river and wind, cobblestone and bone. Three pennies at the crossroads, nine at the gate, and three more at the grave. An old house transformed from a brothel to a keeper of travelers, a history still ingrained in its wood. A mergence of past, present, and future. For some a shyness that may be overcome through magic. Coins in the hair for luck and abundance. A strand of hair for magnetism. Roses in the bath for love. For others it is a loneliness that will not rest. But here the passageways speak to you. They give you prescriptions on paper scribbled ever so slightly. Here there are no secrets. Only tiny stars that fall to find their place on earth and into the light. Gypsies have two traditions. One is to leave something you own in a place you want to return to. The other is of moon and sun. Kam and Shon taught me the way of light and dark. They taught me about mirrors. Latcho from.




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