April 13, 2015

Las Vegas. January, 1992


I find it interesting how certain words in our language are invested with a nostalgic, almost mythic quality. And that they can mean different things to different people, and still retain their evocative spell. "Stardust." A song. (Two songs, really, if you count "Woodstock.") A hotel. An indefinable something that carries magic with it.

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