14 Jan 2022

Tourists shuffle around the church grounds and the sun shines too harshly to convince me the woman is truly made of snow. Decisions to be made: which art to buy, which street to muddle down, which door leads to the carousel. At some point I choose not to melt or else to melt into something kinder.

A woman posing as a tall Victorian statue covered in white paint stands in the background, among red brick buildings in the French quarter.