Monday, March 28, 2011

Friday, March 25, 2011

Thursday, March 24, 2011

A Different Alaska By Robin Rosemond

Alone In NOLA

I walked the evening sidewalks to get to music street in New Orleans. It's Frenchman Street. All my tribe have flown the coup, but I remain and get the feel of life in the South. I listened to Leeroy Stagger. He was great. Have a listen. ♪

Monday, March 21, 2011

A Different Alaska By Robin Rosemond



Something Wonderful This Way Comes

I feel a new life coming on.
There is a richness of culture here.
The sun is close and warm.
Alaska is my beauty.
New Orleans is my song.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Nola Territory by Robin Rosemond



Drove out to Ponchatoula yesterday. It was St. Patrick's Day. We cruised over the causeway and enjoyed the breeze off the lake. The sun was brilliant and I asked Uriah if he would drive me by a house in Gentilly that is for sale. Who knows? I might want to buy it. It was one of those wondrous days where all the stars lined up and I felt a presence of something greater than myself. The house is trashed, but there're bones beneath the rubble that sang to me. I'll go see it again and then I may bid on it. I'm frightened to make a commitment to this city that time forgot, but I realize that New Orleans needs good people as much as I need a place to be. New Orleans is a sacred, historic place. What happened to Alaska? It's still there, but the longer I'm away from the Great Land the more I realize that perhaps Alaska isn't for me. Did I actually write that? Alaska will always be a part of my story now. It's a wild tale with intense characters who dwell in a cold, beautiful place. Summer in Alaska. Winter in New Orleans? Wish me luck!

Saturday, March 12, 2011

A Different Alaska by Robin Rosemond



NOLA Sunshine Remedy

Chicks and Hen.
I'm back on the horse and rode it.
Finding my way.
No one knows.
Walking the quaint streets I wonder where my home is?
Love the mystery.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

A Different Alaska by Robin Rosemond



Jeanine & Robin 2011 Madi Gras

The party went on.
Next year come to Madi Gras.
One step at a time.