I’m broke.

I have been since BP oil spill wiped me out in 2010 and pared me down to the essentials – like my finding my true self every inch of the way down to red in the budget line. As I went down, I discovered that I’m an artist – a writer. Before that, I was a rich businesswoman. Like a millionaire. I had always worked in business. Always had money. Always made money. But poverty was a whole new ball game; and, I discovered that for all the things you can buy with money, you can’t buy poverty – you earn it. Poverty has been one of the greatest privileges  of my life. When I’m rich again, I’m taking Poverty with me – it has taught me things.

Of course, there are disadvantages to being poor, but it also has many great advantages. For example, I learned that I could no longer plan my day. Now, the day plans me. When I was rich, without giving it a thought, I would plan where to go, who to see, what to do, what to  buy. It was MY Day. I worked hard, I paid my way, I had the money and I owned Day – everyday.

But when you are poor, you can’t buy Day – you can’t control it. Day controls you. Once you learn that, things get a lot easier and Day calls on Nature to provide for you. So, in a backwards kind of way, Poverty returned me to Nature through Day. So, now, when I wake up in the morning, I roll over and whisper to Poverty, “Where are we going?” and he always responds, “To Day.” Right! I may not always know where my next meal is coming from, but I can count on one thing –  Day is a new mystery, an adventure every 24-hours. I love Day.

Yesterday, Day took me to stay in the The Bywater in Louisiana with my childhood friend Stacy, who it seems is becoming, in adulthood – an artist manager, mine!

So much happened, but first on the list was walking down the street to discover these incredibly cool holy man warrior people dressed in brilliantly colorful costumes singing the Iko Iko song.  They were surrounded by hipster French-speaking creatives holding cameras and clipboards being  directors, producers, key grips and the like. French people. They are sexy.  When I asked one of them what was up, he  winked at me and said, “Fash-oon Shutt.” Ahh, a fashion shoot. I joined the Frenchies and watched the fashionable hipster girl dance with the holy men and thought about how holy those men were…so holy that Day gave them a free fashion shoot with a fashionable hipster.

Or, maybe Day did it for me.


My friend Maylane sent me this video. Who are these Mardi Gras holy men? If you know, please share in the comments!

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