One week of doors slamming
In retrospect the elephant sanctuary was pivotal in my forward direction – I came back and closed three doors – almost instantly doors started opening on the other side, which was good – finally I was operating in an environment that was not filled with past hurts and passions but instead offered possibilities. Gone – that old ball and chain. It has been the usual flurry of activity – from Bacchanal to festivals to concerts to dinners and porch sitting till early morning and hey, throw in a clam bake.
Went to the New Orleans Museum of Art to see the Katrina Exposed exhibit – I knocked on T’s door and asked her along and we both were struck by the images – H’s aunt and uncle pushing a raft with their dog, the LaLa house covered in blue tarp long before blue tarp became symbolic of Katrina. I hit one series of photos of floating dead bodies and the tears started falling and then T saw her husband’s aunt and uncle swimming to safety from their house – all of it was very moving. I bought the book for both Ss and will bring to California when I go after next week.
In a late night conversation on Friday, sitting on G’s stoop – in typical New Orleans tradition – T was telling a Cajun joke and then he told another and he said, well you should hear SD tell them and I just said uh oh, you know SD?, and he said how do you know him? And well you just can’t keep all of your skeletons in the closet, can you now? T said to me that he did not date in high school because he was shy and that he is still shy – a disclaimer? Early at the Pitot House for Cork & Bottle’s wine tasting I met the woman who keeps the garden out front – well I was introduced to E via T who took me upstairs to meet M who does the garden and before you knew it I was washing glasses for the tasting then committing to Wednesday mornings to help with the garden – I just came down and gave T a look.
Earlier, I picked up paddles and life vests for the canoe and decided to go for an evening boatride rather than head out to Bacchanal for Sunday night reverie.