New Orleans Nest
I am a crow. Like the other crows, I have amassed a pretty solid collection of lost shiny things and those that beckoned to me through open windows. I don’t know why we do it. I guess it’s in our crow DNA. Some of my crow friends, those more prone to conspiracy theories and the like, sometimes speak in a hushed voice of a Dark Overlord none of us has ever seen but suspect we are all serving. I sometimes wonder if I am the Dark Overlord. Or if there is no Dark Overlord and maybe we’re just making excuses about our penchant for hoarding and petty theft. But what do I know? The shiny things look really great against the rustic backdrop of my twig nest. I know I could sell my stash really easily on kijiji or even etsy, but alas, I’m a crow and the logistics of that are absurd. My treasures will remain like museum pieces, carefully catalogued and organized on the branches near my nest.
But it’s not really the old lady brooches or coins leftover from all inclusive vacations to Cancun that I’m into. In this respect, I am not like the other crows. I would trade in all of my pesos for just one mid-century arc lamp or a leather upholstered chrome chair from the 70’s. Vintage is definitely my jam. But what can I do? Set up a teak dining table on my tree branch? I’m pretty much destined to a lifetime of window shopping. Which is pretty much what I do these days. Fly from windowsill to windowsill, looking for vintage treasures that I can’t really dream of having.
I actually really look forward to winter, which is pretty much 8 months of the year here, tabernac. But in the winter, I get to travel South. I always take a different route and sometimes a city I come across sparkles like a giant, shiny gem. When I find a city like that, it makes me want to construct a nest out of the fibres of its being and take naps in it. Everything fits together just right and even the people seem more shiny. Some of these cities even feel like magic was involved in their creation and I think I feel the Dark Overlord’s presence there more strongly, but not in a menacing way. My Dark Overlord is more of a mischievous bad boy; an artist type rather than an out and out evil presence. Anyhow, for sure this guy has been to New Orleans. I don't know how they did it, but the magic there is strong. I wonder if the magic was already there when the first settlements popped up along the Bayou or if it started to materialize as time passed? Was it there in each building block, each ingredient? Or did it only come once they put it all together? Did the magic somehow transfuse its way into everything that was subsequently built there from the earth? How else do you explain the music, the voodoo, the accents, the man-eating alligators, the magnificent houses with windows a story high? I think the storms that came and went in the history of this city tried to swallow the people whole and chew them up, but when they got spit out, they were the rawest form of human, their souls exposed and shining with magic. Yeah, I like New Orleans. I would put it in my nest if I could, but it doesn't belong there. It is a nest itself, and I’m pretty sure its collecting me in it.
As you can imagine, I'm quite content window watching here in the winters. If you ever go, do yourself a favour and check out the Sunday Shop window. It just puts together these random vintage pieces and forces them to make sense together in this harmonious way. A Danish crow once told me they call that harmony feeling, Hygge. Maybe so. Asbjorn is usually right about these things. All I know is that it compelled me to go collect my own vintage pieces and try to make them harmonize in the same way. Just in my imagination of course, I am still but a crow with pretty useless talons.
Caw, motherfuckers. Enjoy.
Behold the Sunday Shop:
Here are the shiny vintage treasures I found to make my own New Orleans Nest. Full disclaimer: crows aren’t good at collage apps.
