This past fall, I found myself in the midst of marathon training and unable to hold a straight face while watching a movie. A movie, any movie, forced me to tears– I’d wind up, curled on the sofa, bawling.
Over anything.
New Orleans
2 PM CT//West Bank Swamps
Letters“OHMYGOD IT’S JUMPING OUT OF THE WATER!!” my friend says, shrieking and jumping and spinning in a burst, “OHMYGOD IT’S THE SEVENTH GATOR!!!!”
Between Congo Square & Mango Freeze-ees
Letters
Fri-yay//Tipitina’s Main Stage
LettersTo Tip’s: A Haiku for Bopping
Bass beating fast
Lights go up in fury
Fri-yays, come at us
*Letter left on the ATM machine between the bathrooms and bar. Because, naturally, that’s where people congregate.
Anytime//Youth Run NOLA
LettersDear Youth Run NOLA,
I have endless, bountiful, SO MANY thank you’s for the ways in which you have changed my life, and most of all, how you reminded why I love to run.
Reminded and taught me that running=
joy + community + endurance + people + glitter + red beans + long talks about zombie apocalypses + long talks about life + singing weird songs + jumping up and down at random moments + race day pep talks + tutus + beignets + king cake + music blasting at full tilt + pride in myself + pride in my team + pride in my city + not taking myself too seriously + exploring new places + putting down roots + supporting others + feeling supported + endorphin creator + ritual + team + family + TOGETHER.
4.25.18//City Year
Letters7:30 am: Coffee in tow, I stand in the hallway awaiting the first stream of buses. I can feel my shoulders sagging. Feel my eyes flickering with fatigue. Just as I am about to emit a lionesque yawn, I feel a small body tackle my knees.
“MS. KAT YOU’RE HERE!” roars one my kindergarten students.
7 AM CT// Audubon Park Oak Tree
LettersWHERE: Live Oak Tree on the Edge of the Lake/Golf Course, Audubon Park
WHEN: 7-something AM, Central Time
Dear Audubon,
Let me tell you a story–
the very first time I spotted you, I was 20 years-old and riding the streetcar from one end of St. Charles to the other. I saw an arcing entrance, palm trees, a massing of Spanish moss, and legit sprinted off the streetcar shrieking,
“YOU GUYS, THIS IS THE PARK!”
March 2011//March 2012
Prelude
4.9.18//A Beginning and an End
Prelude“Someone suggested there’s an incomplete part of our chromosomes that gets repaired or found when we hit New Orleans. Some of us just belong here,” (John Goodman).
The June Project 