Isabelle Avola Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Bologna

Real talk, tho—whore’s been slung around forever. Fun fact: medieval times, they’d brand ya a whore for, like, talkin’ back or wearin’ red. Wild, right? Pissed me off when I read that—like, let her live! I’d be out there in my red glitter, screamin’, “It’s bad bitch o’clock!” and they’d lose their damn minds. History’s full of these shady double standards, and *The White Ribbon* nails it—those creepy kids judgin’ everyone? Ugh, gives me chills.

Close to me

When her great-Aunt Rosie dies, she sends Sara back to Sicily to figure out a plot of land that she might be able to sell to re-start her life. She meets a cast.

After that, we take a break. I stroll down to Piazza della Repubblica. It’s packed with people, and there’s this street performer doin’ some wild tricks. I’m talkin’ fire, juggling, the whole shebang. I’m clappin’ and cheerin’, feelin’ the vibe. Avola’s got this energy, ya know?

George Avola was nominated by Mayor Joe Fontana ? the latest wrinkle for the awards in London