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The Art of Las Vegas Living
Sin City is (quite conveniently) 666 miles away from my hometown. And when I used to daydream of Las Vegas’ beauty prior to moving here, I would envision all the works — the glitz, glam, gamblers, dancers, bead givers, callers, limos, clubs, boobs. I would see the bustling of a big city, filled with tourists galore and cameras and infamy. Because what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right? Or so the saying goes. I would draw the silhouette of the Strip in my mind’s eye, expanding the skyscrapers and casinos beyond their truths. I imagined this city as a host for all things sin but also all things glorious. I was so intrigued to learn more of this thriving life — this business scheme — that lures in people world-wide. Luring in me especially, being the small town country gal in butt fuck Casper. Because I knew I was destined for more than boots and fields and swing dancing. More than office work. More than DUI central. But I never thought a life of Vegas could be a livable one: I just assumed it was a fantastic escape from the normalcy of daily living. A vacation, if you will.
I still view Vegas much the same way when I travel down the Strip, pretending to be an enthralled tourist like the rest of my fellow adventurers. But I also scope out the parts of Vegas too frequently overlooked. Forgotten. The art life here is absolutely stunning downtown. The hidden gems around every corner, hidden in…
