Smiths.
Smiths. It used to be one of my favorite bookshops.
Over the years it has undergone many iterations, always seeming to struggle on the edge of financial viability… yet always bravely independent.
Today it is a cafe slash bar slash live music venue. Outside on the sidewalk are a number of ruined pianos with signs encouraging spontaneous performance.
Inside it is that magical bespoke funkiness that is so hard to find these days in the homogenized chain stores and shopfronts that we seemingly encourage with our unthinking patronage.
I asked the girls behind the counter if it was OK for me to take a photo. They were all smiles and no problems.
I am super happy how this picture turned out. It captures the spirit of the place and the girl makes it sing.
