Mona Lisa
click the link for the soundtrack
The pot-hole in front of the restaurant . Proof that the food is delicious. #pre-yoga
#premonjauro
I was out of town when I heard the news that my favorite restaurant was closing. People back home were freaking out—how could the new owners replace our favorite Italian restaurant? What were we all going to do?
When I lived in the French Quarter, I went to Mona Lisa’s every Sunday. It was conveniently located across the street from the Golden Lantern and after I finished my weekly drag show,I’d head over and when I was lucky, I’d get the table nearest the staff work station where we could all catch up. My girls brought endless refills of Diet Coke without me even having to ask. I’d order a meat lover’s pizza or a pasta—both rich in fattening carbs and protein. I got extra blue cheese dressing for my salad and to dip my cheesy bread in. I ‘d take my leftovers around the corner to eat in bed while I counted my stash of crumpled Reba Douglas Jubilee tip dollars.
Farrell is not only the owner of the restaurant, but the manager, host, and ground controller for a bunch of hot, sweaty, hungry, drunk tourists and locals demanding immediate service. I invited my entitled white ladies who lunch friends for dinner and their knee-jerk refusals told me to not mention Mona Lisa’s again. The best way to describe Farrell is that he has a snarky Joan Rivers like attitude and makes no apologies for speaking his truth. He pulls no stunts- you like him or you don’t.
I’ve watched the French Quarter’s landscape change before my very eyes. The Quarter and its people have given me a great life. Every time I move away, New Orleans draws me back. Our relationship is complicated. She’s like a woman you can’t quit- she draws you back in every time. I’ve witnessed New Orleans survive 9/11, Katrina, COVID-19, and the domestic terrorism on Bourbon Street that happened on New Year’s.
I’d spent my life telling the Universe “NO”. I’ve spent my life telling my friends “NO”. So now what happens when I say yes?
59:
This month has been full of surprises. I turned 59 by celebrating with 50 of my friends—I know because I wrote every name down in my notebook so I’d remember who came. I curated a photographic show of my own and others’ work at Old Road Coffee. Accepting everyone’s love and light, and returning it right back, felt wonderful. It was a success—we all sold something.
Bethany Bultman asked if I would speak at the Beauregard-Keyes House for a French Quarter salon—a gathering of residents who care fiercely about preserving the Quarter. I said yes before she could finish the sentence. I’ve always been comfortable in front of a crowd. Reba taught me early: slow down, speak into the microphone, look people in the eye. It’s simple. You engage, you connect, you keep them with you.
And yes, I’d do it for her, but I’d also do it for the chance to welcome this new chapter to my life. I’d do it for New Orleans. It’s my part of what I can do.
Artist’s Date: an Adventure all it’s Own
In The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron describes the Artist’s Date as a weekly solo adventure designed to nurture your creativity. It’s not about creating - it’s about filling your creative well. It’s all about you without anyone else. They’re about doing something playful, curious, or inspiring that are done once a week. She demands they be carefree, fun, and indulgent. And with no agenda.
I spent the end of last week taking care of a friend’s elderly dad. She and her mom needed someone while they attended his sister’s funeral. I had to keep my eye on him 24 hours a day. Needless to say, I had no time alone. I was left with the questions of how to take care of myself-when was I going to do my daily yoga or my morning chant/prayers?
Friday, he woke me at 6 AM. He was quick to take his shower and get ready-he knew we were off to get a milk shake. I let him get his ownself buckled up (those damned seat belts) and we hit the highway off for our very own adventure of the day. I ordered myself a cold brew iced coffee with 2 sweet and lows and half and half and after much conversation with a voice coming through the drive through order box, we decided on a de-caf frozen coffee with lots of whipped cream and chocolate drizzle for my passenger.
I droveup to the window to get my coffee and found that the voice came from the most adorable young twenty something year old with multi-shades of pink in their hair. We saw each other in each other’s eyes and after introducing ourselves, they asked where all we’d been and I answered but couldn’t find a local coffee house to visit to write in. We talked for the time it took to make our coffees until their boss shut us down. I put in the GPS the destination that took me to a mega shopping mall. But it was fine. It gave me an opportunity to do my morning prayers. Paw-Paw was the perfect person to do them with-he had his frozen drink and wouldn’t remember if he did them anyway.
After realizing our arrival,I searched for the nearest park and we were 10 miles away. My morning prayers wasn’t how I normally did them and my artist’s date wasn’t done by myself or was it? Either way…here are the photos of a great adventure and memory.
