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About Kobe

Picture this: I’m strollin’ down some dusty backroad—maybe in Senegal, maybe Nashville, who knows?—lookin’ for a gal who’s sellin’ a little company. Ain’t no judgment here, honey, I’m just curious as a cat with a ball o’ yarn. First thing I notice? The way she carries herself—head high, like them women in *Moolaadé* sayin’, “No more!” She’s got that fire, y’know? Reminds me of Collé in the movie, shoutin’, “I won’t let it happen!”—only this gal’s fightin’ her own kinda battle, tradin’ love for a buck. Makes me tear up a bit, thinkin’ how life twists us all up funny.

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First stop, I hit up the Seto Pottery Museum. I mean, duh, it’s like the heart of the city. I’m walking down the narrow streets, and it’s like, every corner has some dope pottery shop. I’m talking about the kind of stuff that makes you wanna buy everything. But I’m broke, so I just window shop. Ugh, life.

Minami Bisan-Seto Bridge | bridge, Sakaide, Japan