Clean Slate

It’s a new year, and for me that means more lists and more goals.

I don’t like to call them “resolutions” – that word implies intentions – and it always reminds me of the famous quote, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” I prefer goals instead because it seems like a much more clear objective. I take my lists fairly seriously and refer back to them throughout the year. I don’t think a day or two goes by (although I would like it to) that I am not writing out some sort of a list. It’s the only way I can sort things in my head. Typically, I have a scrap of paper in my car and scribble a “to-do list” at stoplights on the way to work. It’s not because I am uber organized, it’s because I am easily distracted. My mind wanders. My brain, without proper motivation, gravitates toward the fanciful and erotic, and disappears in backward nostalgia and forward daydreams. Sometimes lists are the only way I can exist.

But instead of a list, I started the new year with a clean slate. Literally.

Early last year, I found this old chalkboard at the Preservation Salvage Store in St. Roch. Honestly, they tend to be overpriced. It’s shocking to me that they will try to sell a beat up old particle board cabinet for $75. Some of their prices are actually reasonable but in general it makes me feel savage instead of salvage. I prefer the Green Project, where I find a lot of my wood, supplies and the occasional odd furniture item, but since the PSS is right next door, I stop by because it’s convenient. The chalkboard was actually fairly priced and I snatched it up even though I was not certain it would fit in my house.

It was from the old New Orleans Center for Creative Arts (NOCCA) that was located on Perrier Street in an old elementary school. In 2000 NOCCA moved to a gorgeous building in the Marginy. If I was a child living in New Orleans, NOCCA is where I would want to go to school.

I lugged the chalkboard home and set it up in my entryway, envisioning it in a wide-open downtown loft that I do not own. I kept it there for awhile, just feeling it out, giving it a chance. After a month, I decided that yes, it belonged in my home, I moved some of my art around to make it more at home.

My friends’ daughter was the first to christen it with an elaborate Easter design. After a couple of weeks, I erased it and started over.

Many dinner parties and get-togethers later, people left messages, drew pictures, wrote notes, or proclaimed strong opinions.

Names, glorious names!

A shout-out to Rosser!

I don't even know who wrote this - very sweet.

It is also a part of Louis’s routine whenever he comes to visit. The first thing he does is pick up a piece of chalk and doodle whatever his young mind needs to express. The second thing he does it suck on the chalk. And then after rubbing the wet chalk all over himself, he heads for my piano. It’s his ritual and I respect it.

Master at work

Lots of handiwork

I am sad to see many of these wonderful messages and drawings go, but I need to make way for the new year and can only hope my chalkboard will be filled in the coming months with more cheer and offbeat sagacity from friends new and old.

From some cute French girls who stayed with me this summer.

This is from a variety of events

From Amy's Engagement/Sushi Party

In this society of permanence, it’s comforting to still cherish something ephemeral. It reminds me how easy it is for everything to be wiped away – literally and metaphorically. And how crucial it is to cherish the moment (as Hallmarky as that sounds). I’ve witnessed friends and family members go through loss this year and the most painful concept was the idea that nothing is guaranteed. And sometimes, for better or for worse, timing is everything. All you can do is plan and pray – everything else just kinda happens. This “religion” I’ve adopted of cause and effect doesn’t stop me from writing my lists and my goals on a daily basis but reminds me to not discount the moment that occurs when I am working toward another.

Still, even with the beauty of transiency… I had to document my chalkboard.

Here’s to a clean slate. Happy New Year!