maradona

So in the end, how was Cannes? As I’m writing this, at 36,000 ft. somewhere above Greenland, I realize I’ll need a response...

It’s well past midnight, as usual. I still seem to be writing on Toronto time, blogging when I should be sleeping. Just passed by...

Walking back to the hotel, I ran into a pedestrian traffic jam on the Croisette, a thicket of outstretched arms holding up cameras...