New Orleans, notes.

vagabond gypsies playing old eastern european music with sad still faces and dreds and long beards, a perfect combination of something ancient and something new, wandering around this city that is also. they remind me of a time about ten years ago. when life could have led any which way.
imagining life as a vagabond musician in a little busking community.
thinking of the very alltogether different academic conference attending me.
a woman quietly singing scales walks by
a fabulous fantastic rollicking five piece band down the street clapping and tap dancing and playing their faces off
a duet of boys maybe 12 years old playing guitar and singing and impressive for such young children. new orleans in their bones. and dna.
all numbers of people walk by with musical instruments of all kinds on their backs.
a one man band a block to my left, a mini-trapset on his back with symbols that clang.
i wander about looking for voodoo shops to buy a funny gift, some healing voodoo stick for the doctor to shake at his patients. but the tourist-filled pretend-voodoo shops do not sell healing powers amulets, because that is against the laws of magic. funny surprising commitment in a place that sells all numbers of cheap tourist fodder. maybe that salesmanboy really believes.
found the kitchen witch, a wonderful cook book store with surprising and one of a kind finds. bought a bread book. was gifted with a bread novel by the fantastically friendly owner.
i went to new orleans for an academic conference and it was worthwhile. academically and as a two-day break from snow and a moment of independence and autonomy. with which i did not party in the crescent city, but did eat crescents and beignets and went to bed and woke up early.
the happy look and the hug when zoe woke up the morning after i came home was fabulous. and tonight at bedtime she cuddled me and said "im so glad your here."
melt.