So with Mardi Gras right around the corner and the Saints on the way to the Super Bowl for the first time in their history, memories of my hometown have been looming over my head.
As a child I remember celebrating Mardi Gras: the parades, decorative floats, festive dancers, and soulful marching bands. I remember the anticipation as we stood on the side of the road waiting for a parade to start. I can still hear the sound of the distant bass drum from one of the marching bands, it was one of the first signs that the parade was almost there. I remember the Clydesdales as they marched by looking so majestic & noble, the queens & kings on the floats, and the crowd yelling “HEY MISTER, THROW ME SOMETHING!!!”
I watched the pretty Dance Connection dancers with their purple & white outfits as they danced by, their white boots with tassels would make a scratching noise on the pavement as they passed. I thought I was going to be one of them when I grew up, but little did I know I couldn’t dance.
I can still smell the exhaust from the tractors that would pull the floats, the sounds of the doubloons as they hit the cement, and the pain of getting my hand stepped on as I fearlessly lunged to get one.
Even outside of Mardi Gras season, the city of New Orleans is a world of rich culture filled with vibrant art, unique music, mouth watering food, and happy people. I was so blessed to of spent the first part of my childhood in such a great city. I still go back often to recapture some of my childhood and to get more imagery and memories for future paintings
Oh, and one more thing: WHO DAT?!?! 😀