Tag: New Orleans

St. Louis Cathedral in early morning fog.

Visiting New Orleans? Six Ideas for What to Bring Home.

If you want cheap, mass produced Mardi Gras masks or just another t-shirt, walk one block down Bourbon Street in either direction, and you’ll be set. On the other hand, if you are looking for the best souvenirs in New Orleans – you want something truly special to remember your visit, here are some things that will make you think about the Crescent City every time you see them.[…]

Canoeing the Swamps of Louisiana

Impulse Along the edge of my consciousness, there is an eddy line. Whenever I cross this mark, The current hits the bow, turning me downstream. Water spills off the paddle in steady trickles as the canoe shoots forward. I am a quiet cut on the surface, Moving through […]

The Mississippi River at New Orleans, looking toward the GNO bridge. Photograph by Ann Fisher

Big River

Your eyes remind me of my river in the late afternoon, Sun-golden and warm. I once said so and you smiled. I am alone now. When the light of the setting sun hits his currents, The river-god speaks to me, his child, voice low. I bend forward, close over […]

The Mardi Gras crowd watching the Krewe Of Endymion parade on Canal Street. Photograph, Joel Carillet from iStock Photo.

Mardi Gras Memories

Last year, right as the entire Carnival season was swingin’ into action, I was “relaxing” at the the Touro following the surgical amputation of my right leg. Article by Clint Bolton for a Vieux Carre paper, from Mardi Gras, 1979. Through the windows I could hear the music, […]

Clint Bolton letter for Ann Fisher narrow

Once Upon a Time

Clint Bolton’s letter to Ann Fisher, August, 1979. (Clint Bolton’s author’s note: This may or may not be fiction. There are those who live in the City Beside the Big River who will say of this or that character . . . “That is Soando.” And there are […]

To Miss New Orleans

The city winds in and out of my consciousness, a strong part of who I am. I know the map of the French Quarter like the palm of my hand. I should. A master taught me. Clint Bolton seduced me when I was fourteen. No, not in that way. […]