I just came across this photo from Las Vegas deep within my vast USA archive. I’m not sure during which trip I captured these old neon signs but it might have been in 2018. In any case, it reminded me of the city’s unapologetic indulgence. A place that dares you to let go, to throw reason to the wind, and revel in the sheer absurdity of life as we know it.

You don’t get to tread lightly in Vegas. Whether they like it or not, we are forced to dive headfirst into its neon abyss, to gorge on the spectacle until all senses beg for mercy. It’s a gluttonous place where losing oneself isn’t just inevitable – it’s expected and part of the package.

But here’s the thing: as much as I know better, as much as I understand the ecological and personal cost of such excess, there’s something about Las Vegas and all that it stands for that called out to me as soon as I saw those signs.

I suppose it’s the American in me, the part that was fed Americana from day one. It’s not about what’s good for me – it’s about what feels good, if only for a fleeting moment.

Las Vegas is the perfect place to indulge in these guilty pleasures. To step into a world where everything is larger than life, where reality bends to the will of entertainment, and where the mundane is banished to the fringes

It’s not about balance. It’s about extremes. And in a world where we’re constantly reminded of everything that’s wrong – with us, with society, with the planet – there’s a kind of defiant joy in saying, “To hell with it all,” and just dive in.

The old hotel and casino signs brought all of this rushing back to me. It reminded me of what it feels like to give in, to let go, to embrace the contradictions. I’m all about that right now. After all, it is the season to be jolly!