I am settled into the historic Hotel Monteleone for Heather Graham’s Writers for New Orleans conference, waiting to meet fellow blogger Ray Laskowitz (if you aren’t following his beautiful photography blog, you should be) in the Carousel Bar.
As has happened every time I’ve visited the Crescent City, I’m struck by a sense of homecoming. It happened on the very first visit, when it really should have been a sense of being lost and unsure of where the hell everything was. Instead, it felt comfortable.
Now, I’m no fool. New Orleans has its share of flaws … always has. There is crime and violence, just like in every big city. And yet, just as I did in London and Paris, I feel like this is “my place.”
I think I’ve lived here before. Seriously.