Mardi Gras is 47 days before Easter, since Easter can be from March 22nd to April 25th , Mardi Grad can be from February 3rd to March 9th. 
Mardi Gras is February 25th in the year 2020. I ask you to make a journal of your day in New Orleans during mardi using photos from wherever you like to paruse  
Story 1 :  https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-eostre-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=885  
Story 2 : https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-eostre-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=886  
 
STORY 1
 
ba-bedee-debede-doo Bonjou Nouveau Orleans, I have returned. The morning is bright or magical, as I step from the shore into the city. The sound of horns audible even from this distance. I wonder if anyone will remember when I was here last. If anyone will remember what I did. Well, I have to step forward to find out. Just follow the sounds, as they get deeper. ba-bedee-debede-doo-boo-badoboop-ba Some people are celebrating, and I see a krewe coming like a grass from a storm. Suddenly a woman pops out.
She is on a mobile float like a little island, floating between the streets. A lovely glaze from her skin is given no interference from the sunlight, the latter choosing to shine away rather than muddy her complexion with its cloudy difference. I am in new orleans. I wonder if I can get to the old bar, I wonder if it will be there. I awe at the spirit bird going away on her magical island, like all the other men, and as the island turns, I turn back onto the road north, to the Treme, to the storyville, to my old grounds.  
I wonder about the families of my friends and I, what happened from then to now. Could our stories have ended? I see, a family dressed up.  
I Want to ask them their names, one looks familiar, but I see no men. It is ungentlemanly to speak to women unaccompanied. They may take great offense. so, I decide to keep it moving, let’s not get startled.
In my pocket is an old daguerreotype. I take it out and shed a tear.  
Suddenly the beautiful collage of horns is no longer interesting. All I can recall are the chants of yore, when instruments were too expensive, when the priestesses still roamed the noir streets of the city. Gens de magique femme . I am amazed it survived the passage through time but I hope it will not be a memory discontinued.  
It takes hours to get back to my home, ici le tempeste, no longer here, nowhere, I remember when a storm passed through the city. Everyone’s shanty was destroyed but mine, mine remained, mine survived the storm. But that is cause it was a storm itself, shaking uncontrollably absent proper supports, leaking wildly absent a proper roof, a collisions of sounds, made it an orchestra for any who lived in it for any time. It taught me more than any human ever could about sound. I see this small storefront where its porch stood and go to it. The cover over the window has a small gap and i see a woman dancing inside.
An angel, like the one on the floating island before, but this one is in a room of cotton, gently cushioning her every move. Her face… her face look like my fofo,  I love her most of all. I wish the ancestors allowed me to take her too. I need to speak to this woman. I go inside, the woman pays me no mind, entranced in her own routine. I ask her, can she tell me where to find the descendants of Madame Fofo, my fofo. She does a pirouette and stops facing me. She seems startled by my old-style clothes, the first in these future times, but tells me to go to a party at the beach, where her cousin is. She is the best historian she knows.
So, I travel back out and go back from whence I came, back to the waters about my city, back to the waters that can take you anywhere. And, a party existed where I stepped out of. People drinking, partying, listening to music. I recall the description of the cotton angel and look about, even get a free sausage from finely ground meat that is put in between a fluffy bread shaped similar. I imagine to myself, i may never find the historian but then I notice a woman from afar who may be her. I keep walking toward and I am certain she fit the description. I face the potential historian standing next to her friend I assume. The friend, like an Incan princess, notice me first and realize my stare. I approach and the historian turns to me.
I ask the historian her name and it matches what the cotton angel told me. I explain to her I am looking for Madame Fofo, my fofo. The historian looks to me in disbelief, and pulls a letter out of her pocket, telling me she found it in the archives and keep it for inspiration. She tells me, to read it.  
I read the letter and it says: Mon amour, mon corniste, mon Tontton, j'ai fait ce dont tu avais besoin. J'espère que vous trouverez notre avenir sûr. Je veux vous demander, vous dire, beaucoup de choses. Mais, je ne peux même pas savoir si vous lirez ceci. En l'état, je dirai ce que vous devez entendre. Où est ta corne? C'est là que nous nous sommes embrassés pour la première fois. la touche tape sur la perle blanche. La mélodie que nous avons faite ensemble.
I comprehend instantly, hand the letter back to the young lady and go to Bienville street, and to where we kissed for the first time. The lamp is still there and I see at the base the bumpy surface and a white bump exists. Then I tap on the it with my shoe. ba-bedee-debede-doo-boo-badoboop-ba-ba-badoboop-badoboop-bedee-debede-bedee-debede and a latch open. My horn! I play our melody on our horn and I can see it is all worth it, as the world reverse before my eyes, like an old movie, Bienville street is going to the way it was in the past.
Past I do not know, but past looking closer to my own. Now I know it is worth it, now I know I was right to risk this. The priestess said the Cardinal’s spell on our child needed someone to risk their life, where only love can succeed. I trusted in my Fofo and she trusted in me, and I am coming back. Better keep playing my horn. ba-bedee-debede-doo-boo-badoboop-ba-ba-badoboop-badoboop-bedee-debede-bedee-debede and on and on and on, I see her. STOP! It is the evening, and My Fofo run to me, and embrace me. But she isn’t alone, someone is in a carriage next to her. Someone who look a little like us both.  Ancestres!  
“Mon amour, voici notre fils. L'annee est” I kiss my wife. I do not need to know that. We have all the time in the world.
 
STORY 2
 
I am walking alone, far from bourbon street. Far from the sound of beads hitting bare breast, drunken stammers acapella through the krewes horns, just a man alone with the moonlight looking down upon me. I see a small shop, too small to have a sign, only the merchandise in the window provide any clue to the innards. Nothing particular I notice: masks/cloaks/old horns with stories to tell. But wait, a small figurine catch my eye. A simple figurine ready for Mardi Gras in an appropriate outfit.
I hear a sound in my ear as I look upon the figurine. But I cannot decipher it. "venez ici": I hear clear while subtely. I shake my head wondering why I am hearing french. "come here": I comprehend but I do not know from who. Again, the voice repeat and I notice my attention to the figurine. She is not moving, she does not seem mechanical, and yet I seem to know the voice is from here. I enter the shop. "Bonjour": is the shopkeeper courtesy. I am surprised he think I know a lick of french. I ask about the figurine in the window. He say, she is very old, made for a gens de colour libre woman. I ask him the price, a gentle fifteen dollars. I accept, and he gathers the figurine and place her in a box with bubble pop for cushion. I leave thinking, I have no wife or daughter and I am getting a cute figurine. Well, at least I can tell people she is old. "trouver ma peinture": I sense from the figurine but I keep on walking. "find my painting!": and I face the unchanged figurine, holding it high above my head, and ask a silly question: "where is your painting?" I wait but no reply. I continue to walk finally satisfied this nocturnal magic is finished with me. "North roman entre Beinville et Iberville" I recall the two streets, I think I know where she mean. I take out my map and recall I passed that location and I begin to walk there. My companion stay muted even as I approach the methodist church at the locale. I look down to the figurine and wonder if this is alright. A light is on, inside. I walk to the door and knock. A cleaning man open the door. "Why aren": he stop speaking and seem in a daze. I wave my hand in his face. No change. I decide to go inside foolishly, not knowing if the magic I did not use will come again if more strangers find a stranger in their church. But I look about the nave or the walls and see no painting. I look behind a column and see her.
Somehow I know the figurine is happy. But then a question occur to me. This painting is you. I thought you were given to a gens de colour libre girl, not that you are a gens de colour libre woman. The painting then wink at me. I look up and she speak. "Bon soir anglo, I... need your help": she speak simply. I ask her, what can I do to help you. "You need to face the woman who did this to me and then face me to her, i can do the rest": she speak surely. I have many doubts. "Whomever did this to you is way beyond me, I am no sorcerer": I say escapingly. "Y do not need to know how to wield the magic, just know I need your actions to aidez moi... and the woman in question is located in La Fourche, you will find here where three tree intertwine": and then the painting became still. I look at the figurine and nothing. I go to the door of the church and the cleaning man is still quiet, so I slip past him and close the door behind me. It can be unwise walking around new orleans or around cajun country at night, even during mardi gras but I figure the figurine will help. I buy a sandwich from a local deli and a pack of cigarettes. I eat while I walk, figurine safely in her box, and I keep walking. By the time I get to La fourche I am smoking cigarettes. A car with a confederate sign, fill to the rim with white men who are looking at me, drive but do not stop. I know I need to make this quick. I go by homes, some literally at the river edge, and look for the three entwined tree. I hear a scream. I see a man violently moving and decide to hide behind a bush. I creep near the window and see a dangerous sight.
I look down at the figurine and wonder if this little magic will not get me killed. "Sud, sud!": I hear in my head. Clearly my wavering got the attention to my master. I leave the scene, and hope I can find this tree before I end up in a horror movie. I walk south and finally I see the tree. But no one else is there. "Speak these words anglo...Je te donne mon cœur, tu me donnes un objectif, personne ne doit le savoir": the figurine speak hurriedly in my soul. I am hesitant but finally I decide, all well what the hell. And, after speaking the words, nothing. "PUT ME AWAY QUICK": the figurine speak, I can hear her ceramic heart beating, the black priestess soul underneath determined. Suddenly, a half of a mask appear on one side of the three twined tree. The eye behind one half of the mask seem to be a fluid blue. I hear a loud sniff. and, a woman appear from behind the tree. A forked tongue hiss whisper from the mask: "You are pretty fonce to be down here, anglo...now what is your goal, if your coeur is not heavy enough, I get the rest of the deal". I reply firmly: "alright ma'am, though I already gave my heart to another, though I cannot comprehend exactly why": and I pull out the figurine quickly, facing the masked woman straight away. A hiss is heard from all angles and I hear the figurine in my head:"Vous devez m'avoir oublié, imbécile. Joséphine vous l'a toujours dit, pour faire attention aux vieux sorts que vous lancez." The masked woman, writhing, spit out in french:"Anacaona, mais je connais le sang de ta famille, tu n'avais pas de descendants, pas de clan pour t'entendre." The figurine spoke again:"Imbecillia, vous avez oublié que le membre du clan peut avoir n'importe quelle distance, et l'esclavage de votre côté de notre famille a profité d'éclats faits dans mon clan il y a longtemps." And, a flash. Something knocked me down but someone not present helped me up. "LEve! anglo, leve!": said a woman, a black woman in the gown from the tree woman. Her hair pure white. She kneeled down and looked at a figurine on the ground.  Suddenly, I realized where is my fifteen-dollar figurine. I hear a giggle from the stranger masked woman:"it is me, the figurine" I am amazed. And then I realize the figurine on the ground is the woman formerly behind the mask. My figurine, pick up her nemesis, and say:"retourne, go back to new orleans, and thank you". My honesty perk up. I did not do anything. She smile and say:"This magic was not really of spells but circumstance, will a descendent of mine find me, me living in a porcelain figurine in a small shop in new orleans, but you found me, pure chance and that was the magic that tipped the scales, no spells, no incantations". I stand up and offer a hand, and I notice her hand has age. "aucun problem anglo, I have been dormir a while": she lift up and give me a hug and continue:" I will be alright, I think I know where I can help myself around here, and I thank you for that". Before I can speak, a sole horn player, standing aside a wall is playing, while the rest of bourbon is empty. It is very late. I think to go back to the three entwined tree, but I am tired, and I need to get rest. For some reason, I need to get rest, and I do. ... Back in New York City, I wonder if I had a dream induced by someone planting something in a drink or spraying me with something. I think on that for weeks. And then I get a postcard.
I turn to the back and I see Anacaona Liber's name attached to that old churches address. Her message is:" Figure I needed a new painting with a new style, I will wait for you to decide about listening to your heart"
I realize, what may have happened but hesitate to confirm and when I turn the postcard back around, the image wink at me.   ART https://aalbc.com/tc/events/event/655-black-history-month-mardi-gras-2026/   CELEBRATIONS   Salvador, Bahia, Carnival 2026 https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12468-salvadaor-bahia-carnival-2026/

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This series is merely to help me record my replies to the lovely art galleries I see about.
 
NEXT EDITION
https://aalbc.com/tc/events/event/671-art-comments-03072026/
 
Comment URL
https://www.deviantart.com/comments/1/1305905496/5269724043
 
Thanks @Chaosfive-55 hope side your loving ones find yourselves this march happy plus healthy. Thanks for sharing my work
@Elizabethexpresses the composition is lovely, the mountain range the arch of the female model, yourself and then the inverted arch of the rocky path under you. very nice. For above so below was the photo taken from a drone or helicopter. I gamble unfiscally, a drone. am I right?
for those who may want to know the photogher websites are [ https://www.sensualight.com/ + https://nimblephotons.com/ ] I couldn't find them in deviantart. Elizabeth, maybe you can convince sensualight +nimblephotons them to join deviantart for a commercial page. deviantart has fiscal tools now.
@3J-ART enjoyed the messaging , the movement the linear identity of the figures, the offsetting of the one who is different, facing toward the viewer, no red shadow, at an offangle to the line of the same in all three axis
@Devilpig what inspired, sputchik? and nice title by the way, quite heavy ducts
your plastic man is a perv is genius comedy, that is worth a mens magazine
@Sparrow-Scratch17 ahh i didn't even know wizard of oz, dorothy and her crew are all in the public domain. hmm thank you. and very adorable, love the lion gesture, the hobo look of scrarecrow and very rusty tin man, nice
@organicvision ahh the french alps, lovely, thank you... happy no paragliders messing up the shot
@Ragcat392 for purple passion, what were your fractal settings? like scaling factor or fractal dimension?
@yom94 I can be wrong but is that a paper cut out of an image on a wooden frame? for monkeybird paris
@WonderErika well vampiress, after imagining I hope you don't pounce and decide to go home from the ceiling Question, are you a fan of vampirella? I know you love diana of paradise island. but who is your favorite female vampire in fiction? who is your favorite illustrator of female vampires?
@assincr0n0 have you ever seen the film flow?
@AnickinColor is william scheff on deviantart? we have a group called color me club which accepts inks that can be colored? and lovely coloring by the way. What inspired him to make the accordian head?
@blackforeststeve that dog looked spoiled rotten all they want to do is shake water on people and get away with it
@TheBarrelMan thank you, i never saw this art before. thanks for the history. What inspired the shape? what is it about phillipine heritage in the past or culture to that future that led to this? and just for the record, no one can put their head in their ass.
@LaurainBurbank love the blue tones and shades. Did you manipulate the image with tones or shades separately or all in one go? what tool did you use?
@Ustranga what is the difference between psychedelic art compared to surreal art? I will give it a gander and say based on your work , psychedelic and surreal work I know of. in psychedelic the colors, the unevenness uncommon unexpected colorings is the key but the shapes shouldn't be too far from cognizant. wheile in surreal, the colors may be bland or even natural, while the shapes are meant to be uneven, uncommon, unexpected. What say you ?
 
 
Comment URL
https://www.deviantart.com/comments/1/1301876991/5269737735
 
@leothefox will take a look here before I get to the best magazine on deviantart
 
@300ChickenNuggets lovely ink, did you use a reference
@dmorehead how long did the grimm fairy tale cost where do you put all these lovely sculptures?
@BlaWhi well done, shadow is lovely
@GiggleAddict if the land ever get mad
@CapnDeek373 does bob's mom know grendel's mother? what is the thing Onyx is next to?
 
 
Comment URL
https://www.deviantart.com/comments/1/1304442539/5268959804
 
@Fafnir313 the war for the pallid throne chapter 1 intro is brilliant, sets a tone, gives an idea of the world, and appealing chapter title
haha three hots and a cot, poor felix, nice structure, in one chapter, we know the most traumatic element in felix's life, we know the world he is in has religious fanatics, we know he lives in this world as an abused street thief who is about to join on organization who knows about him and his past , for survival, nice
@Ustranga the lighthouse is in trouble
@leothefox I read chapter eleven of the ways of sin.or the ways of baron potzroy on a scale of 0 myhtological saint to 10 more corrupt that dorian grey after a painting was made, what grade will you give baron potzroy?
@ZaubererbruderASP the face of the resident of hell almost seems pleasant. to answer your question, they will have nothing to eat
and thanks for introducing me to Lizdarkcroft her prose about photoshop role to commonly called AI is true.
@TigerEgern the third stanza is my favorite fellow poet, in share these pages
@LizDarkcroft , what will come out the egg?
@Perzaart I asked someone somewhere else, what is the variance between psychedelic imagery compared to surreal imagery? I answered, in short form, psychedelic focuses on colors being the radical elements while surreal focuses on shapes being the radical elements. What is your answer?
@zeroequalsq nice title, all expenses paid
@Chaosfive-55
Will jack of the hearts tell the taste of the queen's tarts?
Did he or the sheriff learn of Arwen's true darts?
Nice use of their rivalry focus to start change
her focus was so blinding she missed her fate's range
@Peka98 in 20260130 203836 interesting storytelling as the knife has no blood on it
@theyellowroom27 beautiful shadow don't go forward
 
Dreadful Tales no. 61 A Saint's Appetite The Baron Returns in Strength Share these pages Ye Mad Minstrel Strikes Again  

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