You know those little toy cars you used to have to wind up by running them backwards on the ground, letting go, and then watching them shoot across the floor, inevitably into your dad’s leg? (For those of you under 25: find a YouTube video. I’m not going to explain it to you.)
Basically, going to North Carolina was our wind-up. We started in the middle of the country (Louisiana), backed up to the East for a few hundred miles, and now we’ve set ourselves loose across the country. We just needed a little momentum.
Before venturing into the great unknown, however, we decided to spend one last night in New Orleans. This was partly because it was on the way to our next stop, and partly because we’d won a luxury hotel stay in a Christmas raffle, and nothing prepares you for four months of roughing it like a king-size bed and HBO.
We weren’t exactly pining for New Orleans after a mere week away, but there was something liberating about being back on familiar ground without all of our usual duties and obligations. We did our best impersonation of tourists, roaming the streets in sunhats and fanny-packs, blocking traffic to take pictures of random buildings because “the lighting’s just right.” In our 12th-floor hotel room, we admired the view of boats hauling up the river, neon signs flashing below, and some guy ironing in the Marriott across the street.
We also had the pleasure of catching the first day of the Lucky Art Fair, a very ambitious and promising art collaboration conceived by a handful of New Orleans badasses. These installations did for me exactly what I always want art to do: invite me to lean into my own discomfort. Am I supposed to open this door? Am I supposed to touch this? Should I stand next to this total stranger while we read the incredibly intimate poem written on this wall? Is this a bathroom, or a work of art?
This guitar said “play someone a song,” so I did. 
Sean won a goldfish! Fortunately, a paper one. 
For future reference: if you’re a fridge, you never have to tell me to open you. 
I wish we’d had days to roam through the rooms. (Fortunately for you, if you live in New Orleans you can see it next weekend, and you should.)
Our next stop is Austin, where we’ll hang out with Sean’s 57 best friends from high school and hopefully eat tacos for every meal. As for New Orleans, consider this our awkward second goodbye like after you’ve already said goodbye once but then you realize you’re walking in the same direction. Love y’all!
The Good Ship Watermelon 