20-Arrived

Descending on the city of New Orleans late last night, the river’s curve beckoned like an elbow. The curve of a hug, calling us in. But not the gentle powdery hug of gramma, rather, the hug of that aunt dressed in a mumu, holding a martini, weaving across the family reunion towards you taking you into her ample, slightly sweaty bosom. Tender and rough at the same time, smelling slightly of booze, she welcomes you like no other.

I’ll take it.

This is my 20th visit to New Orleans since Hurricane Katrina blew through the city. 20 visits and over 1000 sewing machines, together with faces and places and voices that hold me here.

I love this city.

Each visit is a little different. This time I, along with two board members, Carolyn and Linda, will spend time with the Mardi Gras Indians, nourishing well-established relationships, celebrating their culture and incredible suits.

We have sewing machines.

Each visit is a bit of the known and unknown. I know the items on our calendar but there is always an element of mystery and surprise and that, to tell you the truth, is the fun part. Not knowing has become a mantra, a way of life and I’ve lived into this in so many different ways.

I’ll keep you posted.