Seven Years Later

7 years ago I arrived in Biloxi, Mississippi with my then boyfriend. I remember that ambitious and long drive from my hometown, Connecticut all the way to our new apartment overlooking the mighty gulf coast.

It was an adventure - good, bad, enthralling, dark and beautiful. In the end there's only the good times, good friends and sunshine I remember.

I'm thankful for everyone I met who brought me into the into the light and showed me what Southern hospitality is and all the tiny po boy shops, the cafes that would play the blues, restaurants serving up seafood and soul food on the stretches of Mississippi highway, all the smoky jazz bars, all those sunsets dipped in pure pastels of the Gulf Coast that have a little piece of my heart.

In so many ways, "The Heart of a Flower" started writing itself when I lived down South. I wanted to document all my excursions, all the abandoned mansions that were once flourishing and stately left overgrown and saddened by Hurricane Katrina, all the stories interwoven through casino and backroad. I was alone and I was mystified by it all. I wanted to share everything I saw and felt - I wanted to share my world. 

I wanted to share my favorite daquiri shop in New Orleans, the beautiful seaside gardens in Alabama, I wanted to share what it's like to be a stranger in a new city and have the odds stacked against you. I went through the pouring rain and came out with sunshine and stories.

"To understand the world, you must first understand a place like Mississippi” - William Faulkner