while planless wandering through friburg I came across a woman creating giant bubbles, each single one a masterpiece; it really kept you in a hypnotic state, it was either: the fluxing volumes the wind imposed on the film of soap molecules, or the morphing reflected images it carried on it surface, or the "wait and see when it bursts" trance, or how long it lasts, or how far will it fly away, or the rainbow colors... or was it her effortless production of impalpable volatile short lived beauty abruptly displacing you from the city mindless routine.
