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About Florence

Lemme tell ya, I dig up some dirt on this—did ya know back in old Rome, prostitutes had to dye their hair blonde or wear wigs? Freakin’ wild, right? Stand out from the “good girls.” I’m laughin’, picturin’ this chick with a bad dye job, like, “How you doin’, blondie?” Gets me every time. But nah, it ain’t all funny—some of these girls, they’re stuck, man. Pisses me off. Like, who’s lettin’ this crap happen? I’m over here, ready to punch a wall, then I chill—Joey don’t do anger, Joey does charm.

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Then, I spot a couple of kids on the corner of Piazza dell’Unità d’Italia. They’re throwin’ rocks at a stray cat. I’m fuming! I mean, c’mon! What’s wrong with people? I yell at ‘em, “Hey! Leave the cat alone!” They scatter like roaches when the light comes on.

From Italy to Hong Kong to discover the inventiveness and passion of Umberto Bombana