As I get ready to wander out of the Big Easy and head my way towards Nashville I am left with a sense of bewilderment and awe. I have been to Mecca, and truly I was blessed to have stumbled along the same streets that giants before me have wandered.

As I peer down Burgundy and admire the simplicity of it all I am greeted with a fanfare of Dixieland jazz that is belted out of a trumpet from a lone busker, whose hat has seen better mornings, and whose clothes could have used a good washing a few months ago. I am truly in awe of this slice of beauty pulled from the gutters and presented without remorse. His lone wail echoes against the sounds of traffic just one street over, and the gentle gallop of a carriage that pulls up alongside him at the corner briefly mutes his trumpet with the gleeful noises of genteel tourists as they produce multiple cameras to catch a photo of this far too underpaid talent.

His trumpet swings into a lower register, and soon falls into a low melancholy blues number that quickly shifts me from a happy place into a tearful moment of regret as I pack my bags and get ready to say goodbye to this swampy bohemian rhapsody.

From derelict buildings, and torn up sidewalks that only a drunk can navigate properly, I wandered the town and found dreamers and artists, celebrities, saints, whores, dealers, evangelists, witch doctors, queens (both voodoo and rainbow varieties), cross dressers, children, drunks, pirates, thieves, and yes even more writers.

They say you haven't been to New Orleans unless you get scammed, this is the guy who scammed me, lol!

New Orleans has such a magnetic charm that draws upon the dichotomy of celebration and sorrow so splendidly it is easy to see why so many desire to call it home. It was tempting to stay here for me too, but I hold a vision and I will stay true to that which moves me onward.

Onward to Nashville, onward towards helping others live their vision, onward to expanding and growing Open Heart Publishing, Onward to meeting new and amazing people, onward to tomorrow.

New Orleans definitely is filled with voodoo charm, and there is a slight sense of foreboding that seems to follow you at every curve. I noticed it on the first night I wandered into this romantic town when I pulled into the front of the Hotel St. Pierre.

Located on Burgundy, it has been home to many amazing Jazz Musicians and for this past week it has been my home as well as I have toured the city and got acquainted with many artists and literary voices that dot the landscape of New Orleans.

As a veritable virgin of this truly seedy town, it has been rather difficult to get much accomplished, quite frankly there have been far too many distractions as I wandered from dream to broken heart to tale of woe to story of joy all tightly wrapped together in an oversized pots on stovetops filled to the brim with the soup of life (that would be Gumbo to those of you who are ignorant of such things).

Being a southern boy at heart (though not truly by birth) New Orleans has always left the delectrible taste of sin in my mouth whenever her name has left my lips. She has proven herself to be quite a wanton gal indeed, and try as she might to seduce me from getting any work accomplished, fear not for here I am keeping the good faith as I make my way across America…but my momma didn’t raise any fools and believe you me when I say it was good to see all that I did see.

Besides just getting the amazing opportunity to explore this cool town I was also able to spend time with two authors that I have had the opportunity to publish previously. Robert Dean and C.B. Calsing, You can find both of their works in the inaugural edition of An Honest Lie Volume 1, and you can find further works by C.B. Calsing in Volume 2 and also in her amazing collection of short stories “All Along the Pacific” .

Robert and C.B. and I started our meeting at the Community Coffee House on Royal, and then decided it was a little too uptight and found our way to Flannigan’s a local Irish themed pub to indoctrinate ourselves in the fine art of “Day Drinking” as is the custom for those who pick up the pen in the name of truth, honor, and making a quick buck to pay for the bar tab.

Over drinks we discussed new writing ventures, old crosses we still must carry, dating, death, marriage, renting duplexes to tenants, good food, places to avoid while in town, and of course life in the Big Easy.

We said our goodbyes after a few too many, and Robert and I stumbled our way across New Orleans in a manner fitting men of words, with laughter and a good sense of caution as we rounded new corners and encountered all sorts of derelicts and drifters… most of which were in awe of such men of letters as ourselves, but that could be the Blue Moon I drank painting that picture in my head.

As I parted ways from these two amazing authors from Lousianna I am ever so grateful that I had the wherewithal to pick their works for publication. Truly, they are the new voices of the last American Bohemia.

From Voodoo Museums to Beignets, From intermittent Internet signals and walks along Bourbon St., New Orleans is definitely a world all of its own.