Jackson Square in New Orleans

Twenty five years ago when I was around 35 five years old I lived here in New Orleans, I practiced art, I was a high minded thinker and a man of philosophy. A reader and a man who pursued the secrets of nature and science, I was, of course a lover of life and women. Now normally, I would not write about my personal life or past, but I feel it will explains some of the motivations which have driven me to be here at this time in my life, and if you bear with me you will be entertained and enlightened I'm sure.

The late 1980's here in New Orleans marked a time in our lives that was full of sensual beauty, the end of an era, the hippies were declining into yuppies and art was in full bloom on the fence at Jackson Square, the art colony here was full of talented artists.

The 80's also produced some of the radical thinkers, which soon turned to politics and went on to lead the local government into the future.

We had also men and women who recognized the value of a dollar and began purchasing land in and around the French Quarter; they knew the value of these properties and began to refurbish them into exquisite real estate gems.

The 80's proved to be our renaissance period here in the Crescent City, and we members of the population here were truly Renaissance Men and Women.

Every one was a unique personality, talented and completely distinguishable from everyone else, we all had our trademark and genius. The place was crawling with special people from all over the world unique personalities were everywhere. Such names as Raspberry Mahogany and Rolf From Austria, Jude Acers continued to fight with people for a few bucks on the chess board and I carried a sketch book every where I went sketching people in coffee shops in pen and ink, latter to be sold to local galleries for a few dollars each.

Many famous artists lived here and produced impressive one of a kind art works and the Quarter was crawling with printmakers who did silk screens on tee shirts for the local shops for each festival that was pending. Lorenzo Bergen did prints on high quality paper and sold them to the upscale Quarter galleries, everyone was a cottage industry, and everyone made a living from their talent.

One such artist who had a unique style and gift was Saundra B., a woman of special talent and grace. Her piercing blue eyes and sunlit blond hair attracted me almost instantly. The moment I met her sent me into an eternal blaze, she set my heart a fire and every time we merged together it was like Valentines Day everyday. She was my special friend and I hers, but of course every Garden of Eden has its serpent. And my snake in the grass was a fellow named Lexx, a selfish drunken lot who would periodically steal the affection of Saundra from me whenever he made his appearance in town or come out of hiding what ever the case may be. God, I hated this drunken mongrel of a man.

She, with a great mystery to me, was in love with this sub-human ape and for the life of me I could not figure out how that could be possible, he was not very nice to her and he never appreciated her sensually. I cherished this exquisite woman and all her charms, but as life would have it whenever he was around, my Saundra would not be available to me. So in my depression over the loss of her and her enthusiasm over his appearance I would go womanizing just to show my self that I too was charming and needed for love.

I was as a rule always successful when it came to love and could find companions if need be. At times I would have many women to choose from and allowed myself to fall into an orgy of sensuality for days at a time, instead of drinking to a-leave my loneliness and sorrow, I would chase women and prove my masculinity by pleasing my woman of the moment. Yes I know it was not healthy this string of one night stands which at times led me into relationships which lasted for longer periods, but I didn't know better then, but since have learned the error of my ways.

She too, would be sequestered in her house with Lexx for long periods of time, during which she would not work at her trade, which was drawing portraits in pastel and painting on Jackson Square in her usual spot, the place I would always look for her.

Then when her hideous lover would disappear I would spot her like some delicious mushroom popping up out of nowhere to be found by me and cherished for the moment. As she would be sitting at her place on the fence I would meet her eyes and she would smile at me telling me she was ready for me to return to her life. The eyes glistening fiery blue and the kindness of her face would tell me from a distance that she was ready to be my friend again. I would be overjoyed and with restraint walk slowly over to where she sat and casually say something to her, which seemed like a coded greeting, "Hi, have we met," or "What kind of name is Saundra?" She would giggle at me and I would sit and begin my happiness anew.

Saundra was super intelligent and with in that framework of intelligence I would have these endlessly deep conversations that would last into the night, sometimes until dawn, then we would sleep deep sleeps curled up in one another's arms. With her my joys would be realized and my heart seemed to have purpose again. It was a powerful relationship of love, sensuality, and knowledge. Her beauty was a fire burning deep within my soul.

This is the end of part one, this story is too long for one edition so it must be broken down into several installments in order to allow for the space allotted.

Keep those letters coming I am curious about your comments and suggestions.