” I got the ways and means to New Orleans. I’m goin’ down by the river where it’s warm and green. I’m gonna have a drink and walk around: I got a lot to think about.” (from “Bloodletting (The Vampire Song)” by Concrete Blonde, go find it on YouTube or Pandora because my tablet won’t let me paste the link right this second)
I am in New Orleans for a workcation. I have had several full days of work-related conference stuff to wade through this week, but after the conference, I’ve been a tourist. I’ve been to the voodoo shops, had my tarot cards read (I am curious to read my own when I get back to see how close my reading is to this), ghost tour, and just generally exploring.
There is something about this city that has grabbed hold of me, gotten under my skin. I’ve had two crystal clear instances of deja vu, one so clear I was ready to finish the sentence of someone I haven’t talked to in 25 years because I knew precisely what he was going to say. In another instance, I knew what I was going to see before I rounded a corner, and when I saw what I knew would be in front of me, I cussed out loud to the dismay of several people around me. Weird.
I want to stay up all night. I want to prowl the streets. The relentless heat and sticky air make me feel sultry, sexy, brazen, transforming my mindset from chubby middle-aged office employee to a vixen, a siren. It’s impossible to roam the streets without feeling the energy, this grounding pull as old as time that makes me want to howl at the moon, roll in the grass beneath the stars. It is nothing short of amazing.
The spirit of this place is primal, raw, real underneath the sparkle of Mardi Gras beads, beyond the lure of daquiri bars. I hope that I can carry some of this energy home with me.