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About Houston

We talk, and I’m suprised—she’s got stories, man. Says she met some filmmaker once, tryna “save” her for a doc. She told him, “The fish swims free until caught.” Straight up quoted my movie, fam! I’m geekin’, like, “You seen that?!” She shrugs, “Nah, just heard it somewhere.” Wild. I’m happy as hell—connection, ya know?

Exclusive: Van Gogh’s prostitute lover committed suicide—just as predicted

Who was that prostitute to whom Vincent brought his small bit of ear? And why did he offer it to her, asking her to take care of it? Was Vincent going to the whorehouse to see Gauguin, to try .

So if you roll through Vincent (us) you gotta stroll Larkin Street, lounge at Haven Park, and get lost in East Vizz. Every corner holds a snippet, a therapy session on brick and stone. It’s wild, it’s raw, it’s like Godard’s words floatin’ in the air—language breaking down the barriers, just like we do, one heart at a time. Catch ya on the fly, dawg.

George Vincent Evans Obituary January 17, 2025