12.31.23
I WAS SOLO.
NO PLANS.
CROWDS SEEMED NAUSEATING.
STAYING HOME ALONE SEEMED OUT OF THE QUESTION.
I HAD BEEN HIBERNATING POST X-MAS.
I REALLY MILKED THAT WEIRD IN-BETWEEN TIME WARP WORMHOLE WEEK.
INSTEAD OF RELAXING, I WAS SPINNING MY WHEELS
TRYING TO PLAN OUT THE NEXT PHASE OF MY LIFE,
WHICH IS IMPOSSIBLE.
YOU KNOW THOSE FALLING DREAMS?
JUST SUSPENDED IN MID AIR.
SINKING.
FAST.
ALMOST FLYING.
YOUR STOMACH HAS ALREADY PLUMMETED AHEAD OF YOU
AND HIT THE MYSTERIOUS GROUND YOU CAN'T SEE YET..
THAT WAS ME.
FOR MONTHS.
JUST DETACHING FROM A 20 YEAR CHAPTER
TRANSITIONING INTO THE UNKNOWN .
TERRIFYING.
DEVASTATING.
EXHILARATING.
THE IDEA OF PECAN ISLAND HAD BEEN CALLING ME FOR QUITE A WHILE.
I'D NEVER BEEN.
IMMERSING IN ALL THINGS WHIMSICAL..
FOLKLORE, LOCAL HISTORY, NATIVE PLANTS,
KEPT ME GROUNDED.
I'M AWARE THAT I TEMPORARILY OBSESS, AND I'M OK WITH IT.
COPING MECHANISMS EXIST FOR A REASON.
ON THE LAST DAY OF THIS INSANE YEAR
I NEEDED SOME NATURE.
SO I CONSULTED A PROFESSIONAL.
HOPPED IN THE CAR WITH A PECAN ISLAND NATIVE.
HER PEOPLE SETTLED THAT PLACE GENERATIONS AGO.
VERMILION PARISH'S OUTBACK.
I WAS IN GOOD HANDS.
WE HIT UP AN IMPRESSIVE FIREWORKS STAND
BEFORE EMBARKING ON THE 45 MIN ROAD TRIP
TOWARD THE EDGE OF THE LAND.
DRIVING TO THE SEA WAS MEDICINE FOR ME.
AS WE DESCENDED SOUTH
THE COMPLICATED LAYERS OF THE PAST YEAR STARTED TO DRIFT AWAY.
THE HOUSES GOT SPARSER.
CATTLE DOTTED THE GREEN GRASS
IN BETWEEN ENDLESS FIELDS OF CROP ROWS.
I ALWAYS WONDER THE SAME THING DRIVING IN THE DEEP COUNTRY
" WHERE DO THESE PEOPLE WORK? "
WHICH THEN REMINDS ME TO STOP FIXATING ON THE MACHINE
AND CHILL OUT ALREADY!
WE ARRIVED A LITTLE TOO QUICKLY FOR ME.
I GOT THE FULL TOUR.
THE ONLY GAS STATION.
THE ONLY CATHOLIC CHURCH AND GRAVEYARD.
THE ONLY HIGH SCHOOL.
THE PECAN ISLAND BRONCOS.
NOT THE GATORS OR PELICANS OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT.
I BET WILD HORSES HAD THE ISLAND TO THEMSELVES AT SOME POINT.
DREAMY.
WHEN MY TOUR GUIDE'S GRANDPARENTS WERE YOUNG,
THEY HITCHED RIDES ON THE MAIL BOAT
TO THE NEAREST TOWN FOR GROCERIES ONCE A WEEK.
IF YOU SQUINTED YOUR EYES YOU COULD TIME TRAVEL.
I IMAGINE THE PAVED BEACH ROAD WE WERE SCOOTING DOWN USED TO BE DIRT.
THOSE EXACT SAME TREES LINED THE SHORE, NO DOUBT.
PECAN ISLAND IS A CHENIER.
I HAVE HEARD THIS WORD MY ENTIRE LIFE.
IT'S A COMMON SURNAME IN SOUTH LOUISIANA.
CLIFTON CHENIER.
KING OF ZYDECO.
EVEN PAUL SIMON KNOWS THIS.
I HAVE NEVER CONSIDERED THE ORIGINS OF THIS WORD.
I MUST'VE BEEN DAYDREAMING ABOUT RECENT SKATING RINK DRAMA
WHEN MRS. BEAZLEY WENT OVER THIS IN 8TH GRADE LOUISIANA HISTORY.
CHENIER, OR CHENE, IS CAJUN FRENCH FOR OAK.
WHEN I SPOTTED AN ANCIENT ONE THAT CALLED MY NAME
WE PULLED OVER TO INVESTIGATE.
A TOWERING LIVE OAK WITH SPANISH MOSS FOR DAYS
AND COVERING ITS BASE :
PALMETTOS,
A NATIVE PLANT ROOTED IN VIVID CHILDHOOD MEMORIES.
TALK ABOUT HEAVENLY.
WHERE IS MY REMOTE WITH THE PAUSE BUTTON?
THE MOST PETIT WAVES I'VE EVER SEEN
GENTLY KISSED THE SHORE EVERY SO OFTEN.
ALMOST RHYTHMLESS.
MAYBE THE MOON WAS AS FAR AWAY AS MY WORRIES AT THIS POINT.
I WAS THEN INFORMED THAT WE WERE STANDING ON
THOUSANDS OF LITERALLY ANCIENT INTERTWINED ROOTS THAT MADE UP THE ISLAND.
HUH?!
WHAT KIND OF NATURE SORCERY WAS THIS
AND HOW AM I THIS OLD AND CLUELESS OF SUCH ENCHANTMENT?
SOMEHOW, THE MISSISSIPPI DELTA IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS PHENOMENON
THAT ONLY EXISTS ON A FEW MUD COASTS ON THE GLOBE.
HOWEVER IT HAPPENED, IT FASCINATES ME.
I IMMEDIATELY IMAGINED ALL MY FAVORITE PEOPLE
WHO HAVE DISAPPEARED FROM THIS EARTH, INTERLOCKING ARMS,
IN CARE BEAR STARE STANCE.
I KNOW THEY ARE THERE SUPPORTING ME SOMEHOW FROM THE ETHERS.
HOLDING ME UP, ESPECIALLY NOW, AS I SWAN DIVE INTO THE FUTURE.
I CAN'T SEE THEM ANYMORE,
BUT IF THE ROAD WE WERE JUST CRUISING DOWN
IS HELD UP BY INVISIBLE TREE ROOTS,
MY ANCESTORS ARE MOST DEFINITELY CONNECTED TO MY SOUL STRINGS.
I WAS CURED!
LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL ONCE AGAIN.
THERE IS MAGIC ALL AROUND US AT ALL TIMES
IF WE JUST OPEN THAT THIRD EYE AND WHATNOT.
WHERE TO NEXT?!
NEXT, I SPOTTED THE MOST PECULIAR SIGHT.
IN THE MIDDLE OF LOTS OF,
YES, TREES,
WAS AN OPEN SQUARE OF LAND.
THE GRASS WAS SHORTER THAN THE WILDERNESS
THAT SPRAWLED BETWEEN THE QUAINT ELEVATED CAMPS,
BUT STILL UNKEPT AND OVERGROWN.
STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SPACE
WAS A FORGOTTEN BASKETBALL COURT.
ONE GOAL HAD NO HOOP, IT'S PARTNER WAS IN TACT.
NET AND ALL.
SO BADASS.
A PLAY BONEYARD.
SHE FEARLESSLY DRIVES AS CLOSE AS SHE CAN GET.
I'M NERVOUS ABOUT GETTING STUCK.
SHE CHUCKLES AND TELLS ME NOT TO WORRY
SUBARU'S WERE MADE FOR THIS.
I MEAN, WE WERE IN THE CAJUN OUTBACK.
OUT WE GO TO GET THE SHOT,
BUT RIGHT BACK IN WE GOT.
WE OPENED THE CAR DOORS SMACK DAB IN THE MIDDLE OF
A SWARM OF 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,001
BLOOD SUCKERS.
I AM NOT BEING DRAMATIC.
WE ZOOMED BACK TO THE ROAD AND TOOK
HER BROTHER'S SAGE ADVICE FROM EARLIER,
AND CRACKED OPEN BOTH THE DOORS
..AS WE DROVE.
HE SWORE THE DRAFT WOULD SUCK THE MOSQUITOS OUT OF THE CAR.
WE LOST A COUPLE PINTS OF BLOOD,
WHILE SCREAMING AND LAUGHING IN DISBELIEF / DISGUST.
THANK GOD HE KNEW WHAT HE WAS TALKING ABOUT.
WE DIDN'T DIE.
AS SOON AS WE CLOSED THE DOORS
OF THE MOVING VEHICLE,
WE SPOT A CONCRETE STATUE.
PECAN ISLAND MARY,
CONTENT IN THE MOSQUITO MONSOON
WITH A BEAUTIFUL VIEW OF THE BEACHY SUNSET.
EEEERCHHH.
WE LOOK AT EACH OTHER.
SHE GRINS.
PULLS OUT A LONE YELLOW SMOKE BOMB IN SLOOOOW MOOOO.
THE NATIVE ISLAND QUEEN FOR THE WIN!
AND OUT WE GO.
ANYTHING FOR ART.
AFTER THE SECOND ROUND OF 887,963 MOSQUITOS
GOT SUCKED OUT OF THE CAR,
WE BRIEFLY STOP AT A FLASHING STOP LIGHT WITH 4 RETRO GLOBES
IN THE LITERAL MIDDLE OF NOWHEREVILLE,
WHICH INTRIGUED ME ENOUGH TO GO TO BATTLE AGAIN.
AFTER ALL THE EXCITEMENT,
I THOUGHT FOR SURE WE RAN OUT OF FAIRY DUST FOR THE DAY,
BUT, NO.
A GIGANTIC BALD EAGLE SWOOPED ACROSS OUR PATH
ON THAT CHENIER RIDGE ROAD.
ONCE AGAIN, LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY IN DISBELIEF.
NIGHT FELL.
YOU CAN IMAGINE THE LEVEL OF DARKNESS SURROUNDING THE MUDDY COAST.
AS WE VENTURED BACK TO CIVILIZATION,
THE MOON ROOF WAS AJAR.
NOSTALGIC 90'S FEMME BALLADS BLARED AS WE BELTED ALL THE LYRICS
WE THOUGHT WE FORGOT , BUT HAD NOT.
WE WERE PROUD
AND HEALING OURSELVES WITH OUR VOICES.
I SAW AS MANY STARS THAT NIGHT AS BLOODSUCKERS THAT DAY.
HELLO 2024.
THOSE ARE NOT BIRDS. THOSE ARE MONSTER MOSQUITOS WITH LANDING GEAR.
AVAILABLE PRINTS INSPIRED BY NYE PECAN ISLAND EXPERIENCE :
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