In going through a bunch of stuff--yes! more stuff!--I came across forgotten documentation for a Travel Journal project that grew out of Red Dog Scott's Capolan Exchange many years ago. Apparently I participated in this, although I have no memory of doing so. At any rate, these are (apparently) my words about my destination in the project:
"There is nothing I can say about this journey. Since i do not believe in past lives or reincarnation, there's no way for me to explain the way I have always felt about The French Quarter, all my life, long before i ever set foot there. And there's no way to explain how I feel about the place now, after finally seeing it, breathing the air, walking the streets. It has nothing to do with the people who live there now, the shops and shows and bars and crowds. It's the way the air feels on my skin, the odor of the river and the stench of the streets late at night and the noise of distant people, muffled by thick walls and years and time. It's all a mystery and best left that way."
imagine all the people
16 hours ago
2 comments:
isn't that interesting? how you stumble on something you produced, yet you don't recognize it? you think "wow! I did that?"
i love the french quarter.
This feeling of recognition may not have anything to do with reincarnation or past lives. I experienced the same feeling the first time I walked in the high desert in So Cal. Also, I've had it when meeting people for the first time or reading a book. My theory
is that sometimes our "wavelength",
for lack of a better name, is matched in the environment or another personality.
It's like a feeling that we've come home. Sometimes I even get it
with something I've made or painted.
Always, it's a hopeful feeling and
one I welcome. Have a great day.
Patty
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