It’s almost that time, y’all… My mind is already there, steeped in chicory, dusted in powdered sugar.
Hungry for those sweet faces I ain’t kissed in so long. My heart quickens up when I think of riding down
my old bumpity streets, turning onto Piety and seeing my favorite tulip magnolia shivering with blossoms.
Ready for sweat, for sequins, for dancing on the bar. Even for looking over my shoulder, walking quick,
head held high, senses sharp and canny. Time to get back to the Delta where I learned how to breathe
underwater, back to that fertile crescent where I left my heart. Let’s go, let’s go. Come on! Come on!

Me + Randall Buckthorn Chili Frangelico outside the All Ways Lounge on St. Claude.

Drewzilla displaying his characteristic babyface witch-finger beard.

R.I.P. Magnolia Shorty – she was so mighty.

Corinne + Frannie

Monique + Ponyboy – just another night at the Dragon’s Den.

Alisan rockin’ a bit of Prince flair.

Alisan + Fran out in the soft light on North Rampart St.

Big Blessings Poppin’ – The Devil Can’t Stop It!

Joe Power on the steps of the monster-face church.

Bean Dress!

I forgot to include the back of her dress! It sez:
“If you like it then you shoulda put a BEAN on it!”
Genius.

I came upon this marvelous bean krewe one afternoon…

Their ensembles were stunningly bedecked in various varieties of the magical fruit.
(The more you eat, the more you toot – the more you toot, the better you feel!)

I always fall in love with the creole cottages + shotguns of New Orleans.
We carry on illicit affairs, and I whistle at them, and shoot smoldering glances
as I ride by. Oh, if only I could sit on your stoop, baby. I’d be hangin’ half naked
off your balcony every night… You know I’d treat you right, get you insured, get
your shutters greased with butter, your floors waxed and gleaming. You know I would.

I fall hard for paintjobs, bits of gingerbread trim, stained glass – all that.
I’m a sucker for the lonely, quiet looking ones. I think how lively I could make them.

See you soon, baby.