When the bluebird sings, in the ….
I’m always amazed at how noisy New York is – literally I wake up to birds chirping every morning – and at the Muse I would lay there with the windows open (because I need the windows open) and hear the sounds of garbage trucks, tourists yelling in the street, humming of white noise and whir, and just think MAKE IT STOP – you live in a still place – a place like New Orleans…