St Josephs Day
St. Josephs’ Day was completed in 2016 after I returned home from my first trip to New Orleans. My Father always said he wanted a second line to play “When the Saints go Marching In” for his funeral. When he died in 1995, I was only 25 and just too heartsick to even think about fulfilling that request. Twenty one years later I was able to dance in the streets of New Orleans to that song, for him. When I booked the trip, I did not know that they would be celebrating the Feast of Saint Joseph, my fathers’ namesake, throughout the city. St. Josephs’ Day was always like a second birthday for my Dad, and very special in our Italian family. I visited the homes and bars that were open to all, offering all the traditional foods and pastries of my Italian upbringing and ancestry. It was truly an incredible homecoming and full circle moment. I healed much of my heart on that trip. This piece illustrates that transformative experience.
St. Josephs’ Day was completed in 2016 after I returned home from my first trip to New Orleans. My Father always said he wanted a second line to play “When the Saints go Marching In” for his funeral. When he died in 1995, I was only 25 and just too heartsick to even think about fulfilling that request. Twenty one years later I was able to dance in the streets of New Orleans to that song, for him. When I booked the trip, I did not know that they would be celebrating the Feast of Saint Joseph, my fathers’ namesake, throughout the city. St. Josephs’ Day was always like a second birthday for my Dad, and very special in our Italian family. I visited the homes and bars that were open to all, offering all the traditional foods and pastries of my Italian upbringing and ancestry. It was truly an incredible homecoming and full circle moment. I healed much of my heart on that trip. This piece illustrates that transformative experience.
St. Josephs’ Day was completed in 2016 after I returned home from my first trip to New Orleans. My Father always said he wanted a second line to play “When the Saints go Marching In” for his funeral. When he died in 1995, I was only 25 and just too heartsick to even think about fulfilling that request. Twenty one years later I was able to dance in the streets of New Orleans to that song, for him. When I booked the trip, I did not know that they would be celebrating the Feast of Saint Joseph, my fathers’ namesake, throughout the city. St. Josephs’ Day was always like a second birthday for my Dad, and very special in our Italian family. I visited the homes and bars that were open to all, offering all the traditional foods and pastries of my Italian upbringing and ancestry. It was truly an incredible homecoming and full circle moment. I healed much of my heart on that trip. This piece illustrates that transformative experience.