Painting of Mardi Gras Indian
They call it the City that Care Forgot, the Crescent City, the Big Easy–it’s a great city for both saints and sinners. I lived there for 15 years and experienced a lot of life in many different ways. I hadn’t been back in 5 years and was a little apprehensive. My visit was short–only 5 days, and most of it was spent catching up with old friends I had known for 23 years, 17 years, 15 years. As usual, the city graced me with its amazing sensory complexity–architecture, food, personalities, celebration, and a little sadness walking those old familiar streets with so many memories. I was treated like a queen by my friends. There is almost no city I can imagine that has more joie de vivre than does New Orleans. I was hosted by friends Kathleen Turpel and her partner Alessia, (an Italian goddess ) at Nona Mia, and wined and dined by my darling “adopted daughters” Kimmie Kiviranna and Julie Pieri at restaurant August. My brother and his wife took us out to Marigny Brasserie and I got to see my nephew Val who has lived in New Orleans since he arrived to help with the Red Cross and eventually other agencies after Katrina. He was also born there–and that is another story for another post. One of my oldest and dearest friends, Cheryl Gautier and her lovely family greeted me with love and warmth and unsurpassed friendship. So that’s what I mean by rich and bittersweet. It’s hard to live so far away from long time friends, and from the very extraordinary city that is New Orleans.
