After a few weeks consideration, the way is paved. Today, plane tickets were purchased for two poetic souls on a venture to the Big Easy. My collaborator and creative cohort, Amy Trussell, recently was the first runner up for the 2008 National William Faulkner- William Wisdom Creative Writing Competition for her poem Foreleg Eardrums. Because of this precipitous event, parts of our book, The Painted Tongue Flowers, will be set before the discerning eyes of an editor of significance. She's one of the honored guests to attend the Faulkner Literary Gala in late November and she's persuaded me to tag along. She loves New Orleans and is convinced I will too. I am game to explore the French Quarter and visit Queen of Voudoo Marie Laveau's grave, among other inevitable inspirations.We will also be steeling ourselves for signs of the devastation wrought by Katrina. Amy, having been before, will be strongly touched no doubt.
Oil painting "Marie Laveau" by New Orleans artist Dimitri Fouquet.
3 comments:
Oh wow. Oh wow. You will love it. If you can go past the aroma of old bar and alley piss, the Quarter smells like oil paint. Think of me when you're on Burgundy St. (pronounced Bur-GUN-dy) that's where I was born. My dad's studio was on Toulouse. It was in the 700 block, but I don't remember the address. I haven't been there since 2001. You're going at the absolute best time of year weather-wise. Go hungry.
Thanks, Molly! I still remember some of your tales from those summers when you went back. Sasha's family, her home with an elevator, something about a pet alligator and the endless nights of adventure skateboarding through the streets. Did I make all that up? I will indeed be thinking of you as I roam and I do plan to have an appetite.
K
Skateboarding down Nashville Avenue, going *pop* *pop* *pop* over the cockroaches! I can't believe you remember that! Sacha's old house is near Pirate's Alley next to Pere Antoine or something like that. My dad made the iron bell tower at the Ursuline Convent.
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