TOUR JOURNAL

This tour journal is dedicated to the stories, memories, and adventures that I have the pleasure of experiencing while traveling on my Southern Shores Tour. Beginning in Summer 2026, as the United States enters its 250th year, I will be touring the Southern Shores to perform a series of Hair Paintings with and for community members in six cities: St. Augustine/Fort Mose. Florida, Charleston, South Carolina, Savannah and Columbus, Georgia, Mobile, Alabama and New Orleans, Louisiana.

A Hair Painting is an interdisciplinary ritual that honors our ancestors and acknowledges the land itself as a keeper of history. Through gesture, movement, and paint, these performances memorialize local stories while imagining new futures. Growing up in Alabama, my grandmother, Ruth Mae Giles, always told me, “Your hair is your strength.” This project is rooted in that resilience.

This journal reflects the images, words, and dreams of my time in the South. Follow along as I witness all the beauty that these lands and shores hold and the people who steward and remember this place. This tour is made possible through the generous donations from supporters like you. Please consider making a tax-deductible donation.

FAMILY PICNIC - CELEBRATING 50 YEARS OF FAMILY TRADITIONS - JUNE 20, 2026

I’ve seen many videos on Instagram that suggest picnic is a word that Black folks shouldn’t use to describe our outdoor social gatherings. There is a seemingly common understanding that the etymology of the word picnic comes from the tradition of lynching picnics where white terrorist would “pick-a-nword” and enjoy food as innocent Black folks were violently mutilated and hung from the trees. THIS IS NOT TRUE. While lynching picnics absolutely sullied the southern landscape, the word itself is not born from this history. In fact the word originates in France with the picque-nique. This word essentially carries the same meaning, a social gathering where folks bring food to share. Whether you call your time outside a picnic, a kickback, or a cookout, I can say my time with the family this year was amazing. 

My mom and her brothers and sisters have been gathering for 50 years outside in Pine Mountain, GA. State parks or Callaway Gardens were prime spots for this annual picnic. Shaded by tall pine trees, our family sang together, cooked together, and played cards together. Watering holes, swimming pools, or manmade lakes cooled us off when the grills got too hot, or when we needed relief from the southern humidity. What started as an easy way to bring the siblings together in the Summer, has grown to an over 60 person event! This year, my mom’s first cousins on both her mother and father’s sides of the family were there. Family feels infinite. Is it even possible to meet everyone in a family? I met cousins who live in Phenix City and Columbus that I’ve never heard of. I met new babies held in mother’s arms, 90 year old elders sat in wheel chairs, and silly kids with the confidence of a preacher. I met my mom’s first cousin’s first cousin’s kids. Our family keeps growing. Wow. We are blessed. I love them. Our family is infinite because our love is endless. 

My mom essentially is the host and mc of the event now. She is the youngest of her 7 siblings, therefore the baton has been passed to her. She organizes the invitation list, makes sure the menu is figured out and everyone knows what they need to bring, and leads the charge for games and line dancing. Out of nowhere, my mom’s amplified voice cut through the pollen filled air. I turned around and realized someone had given her a mic! My mom loves a mic and isn’t shy about using it. She gathered us all into 5 groups to begin a game she made up herself. The rules of the game was to create a song introducing ourselves to each other – again, our extended family runs deep and the list of names are just as long. So this game was a perfect way to get to know each other. Every group created original songs, or remixed versions of cookout classics. Each group clapped and sang their songs, while us witnesses danced across the dirt ground to their beats. Four generations held space and celebrated another summer together. 

NEW RELATIONSHIPS AND ARTS EDUCATION- June 19, 2026

HAPPY JUNETEENTH YALL! Celebrating Juneteenth in the south always hits different. This land holds the memory of my ancestors, who endured horrors I can’t imagine. This is the land where they fought for their freedom, building community and support systems along the way.  On this day we remember Union soldiers arriving in Galveston, TX to share the nearly two-years-late news that the enslavement of Black people was over. In the wake of this announcement, 250,000 Blacks folks held in slavery in TX were freed. This day, which had only been recognized as a state holiday in Texas since 1980, became nationally recognized when President Joe Biden signed the Juneteenth National Independence Day Act in 2021. 

Five years later, I woke up, on our day off, to prepare for a conversation with Rainey-McCullers School of the Arts, here in Columbus, GA. Named after artists Ma Rainey and Carson McCullers, this school marks the city’s first all arts program for 6-12 grade students. As I grew up down here, an art school was only a dream. While there was not a dearth of art programming for middle school and high school students in Columbus, this school represents an incredible shift toward making art education accessible to all curious students in the city. 

When I grew up in Columbus, I was grateful for the theater arts education I received. I remember fondly my time at Springer Opera House. Dorothy “Dot” McClure was our local hero and has been on my mind these last few days. She was a part of a group of art supporters who kept the Springer from being demolished in the 60s. Through their efforts, the Springer was recognized as the State Theater of Georgia in 1971 by then Governor Jimmy Carter. In 1992, the state assembly made the title permanent. The Springer Theater academy started in 1996. When I arrived in 2002 more or less, studios were filled with children serious about building technical theater skills. Shakespeare and contemporary scene studies courses, paired with rigorous movement and musical theater training, grounded my early theater education. The fearless academy founder and teacher, Ron Anderson, always said, “We are learning life skills through theater skills. And it’s a wise investment.”

He was not wrong. Access to art transforms students. I am the product of early and consistent arts education. In so many ways I feel like I’ve inherited Dot and Ron’s mantle. I’m so excited about cooking up something really special for these students at Rainey-McCullers. More from me soon about this as it gets firmed up.

LET THE RAIN FALL DOWN AND WAKE MY DREAMS - MY FIRST FUNDRAISER EVENT - June 18, 2026

If you’re a millennial that grew up watching Disney channel, you must know that Hilary Duff is back with new music and a tour. So it feels so appropriate to title this entry as a lyric from her infamous song, “Come Clean”. I must admit that I actually didn’t know the name of this song until googling it right now. Hilary’s return to the spotlight isn’t the only reason I’m quoting her – the rain on this Thursday felt straight up out of her music video. You see, this particular Thursday I was planning to have my first fundraising dinner and party at my lovely classmate’s home from high school, Carolyn Shuler (now Bettin). We had been planning this party/dinner for weeks. Carolyn had arranged beautiful catering done by popular local chefs known for their delicious large hors d'oeuvres and charming Southern hospitality. Everything seemed perfect and ready until the clouds opened up. I sat on my mom’s porch across the Chattahoochee in Phenix City, and watched the rain wash away soil and plants, until the little bramble behind her fence swelled to a creek then a small pond. Are we in trouble? 

But like the mailman/person, a little rain never stopped no one from getting done what needed to be done, right? I prepared my youtube playlist of past Hair Painting videos for an inspirational background visual, jotted down some notes for my short talk, ironed my gold Nehru jacket gifted to me by one of my best friends and fellow artist Aparna, and collected the fundraising cards meant to direct potential supporters to my Fractured Atlas fiscal sponsorship. I was ready. We were ready. Then a text: “You’re going to die. We don’t have power.” Of course this text was from our intrepid host, Carolyn – that newly formed pond wasn’t the most dramatic result of this storm. It rained so hard that many houses in Columbus were in the dark - downed trees from the 60 mph winds had taken out trees which in turn had pulled down power lines and damaged transformers. I called her to check in, “Are you good? Should we cancel?” No, she says, “Georgia power is on the street taking care of it. We should be good soon!” Yesss – I let out a sigh of relief and continued getting ready. 

My mom and I drove over to Hilton Heights, right behind St. Elmo park and Columbus High School, and pulled into the Bettin’s driveway. As I approached the front door holding a bouquet of yellow roses with my mom right behind me, it seemed that the worst of the storm was over, until I realized that there was no light emanating from the clear transom windows crowning the front door. I whispered to my mom, I don’t think they have power yet. As Carolyn’s smiling face greeted us at threshold, it was clear Georgia power hadn’t taken care of it yet. Hug, hug, kiss, kiss. We walked into a gorgeous albeit dark home. We remained optimistic. Georgia power was still “taking care of it” so we took this moment to have a quick glass of wine, while I set out cards and Carolyn staged a beautiful spread of roast beef, opened face tomato sandwiches, charcuteries, fruit and dessert. 

6:30 arrived and our guests poured in, as quickly as the rain had come and gone. I would say around 25 people showed up – a handsome number since our total invited count was only 27. Fearless and unbothered by the rain, newly elected council members, past classmates, collectors, art enthusiasts all gathered under their porch catching the last bit of the summer sun, to celebrate and support my work and this tour. Then out of no where, the light retuned, as if God had separated light from dark - like on a laundry day where everything is washed clean. What could’ve easily ended in disaster, actually turned out to be one of the more memorable house parties I’ve attended in a while. We did it! The rain fell down and my dreams were awakened.  

A PAUSE AT HOME - A REFLECTION ON PREPARATION - JUNE 17, 2026

My time at home has been beautiful so far. I’ve eaten at some of my favorite places in the world:  ribs from Country’s BBQ and the burrito and quesadilla special from El Vaquero. I’ve enjoyed watching episodes from Agatha Christie’s shows on BBC with my mom, and finding time to hang out with cousins who live down the street. As I stand on my mom’s back porch, I can’t help but feel the overwhelming beauty and humbling grandeur of Alabama’s woods. I was gonna say I was enjoying the quiet of nature. But if you’ve spent any time down here, the frogs, grasshoppers, and birds hardly whisper. In fact they are so loud, my partner Julian can hear them when we speak on the phone.

Now that I finally feel settled at home, I've been thinking about how rewarding preparing for this trip has been. With the donations I have received so far, I was able to purchase major equipment, to produce fundraising and advertising materials, and to acquire the necessary tickets for transportation. I am especially excited about the wireless lavalier set, fit with two mics and a receiver for my phone. Because I am primarily shooting community conversations on my iphone, it has been so easy having this set up for my documentation. Simply passing a mic to a community member has eased the technical complications often found with recording audio and video – plus I think folks like holding a mic. 

I am so lucky to have the support of my brother, Jon Key, who runs MorcosKey, a graphic design studio, with his partner Wael Morcos. Jon has always been my go to graphic support team. I am enjoying the process of creating the visual assets for this tour with him: I sketch out my vision in inDesign and send him a packaged document with all the necessary assets (language, graphics, etc). Then he takes it and zhuzhes it up. He specifically helped define the system for the tour’s poster, which I then took to shape my postcard assets and the “Are You Shore?” game. After all these years of watching him design, I definitely picked up a few tricks of the trade. I sent Jon sketches for the last couple materials and he barely had any edits at all. So I know I’ve learned a thing or two. Being an independent artist requires so many skills, even outside the painting and performing: administrator, boss, producer, advertiser, agent, and now I can confidently add graphic designer. 

I have a couple more events in town while I’m here. Can’t wait to keep seeing so many people I love and who have defined my life growing up here. Next up is my first fundraiser dinner hosted by Carolyn Bettin. I haven’t seen her in a few years, since she came up to NYC. So it’ll be so nice to see her again. 

COMING BACK HOME TO COLUMBUS - SOUTHERN SHORES’ FIRST COMMUNITY CONVERSATION - JUNE 16, 2026

I don’t often fly from NYC to ATL to Columbus. But after a quick layover, I arrived home Monday to the smiles of my mom, Linda Key, picking me up from the arrivals terminal at the airport. I love being home. Nothing like Piggly Wiggly and Chick-Fil-A sharing a sign and a parking lot to really solidify that I am back in the south. 

Arriving at the Columbus Museum on Tuesday was such a treat. After a beautiful renovation a couple years ago, the museum is such a welcoming and accessible space now. Definitely a landmark in Columbus worth visiting. Plus if you want to see my first museum acquisition, Hair Painting No. 29 on display, it’s currently hanging in one of the main halls. I was told by one of the main curators that my piece actually had to be moved because it’s such a popular spot on docent-led tours and there wasn’t enough space for all the kids and parents visiting the space to stand or sit in front of it. Now we could have a whole dance party in front of it. 

I am so grateful to Jonathan F. Walz and Julie Garner at the museum for helping me score the Lampton Conference Room for my first Southern Shores Community Conversation. These dialogues are intended to be casual and intimate. My hope is to create a space where all the participants feel excited to share memories, stories, and any myths held by the shores in this landscape.  

In order to break the ice, I created a trivia game called, “Are You Shore?” (a play on “are you sure?”). This series of ten questions covered a range of history, wildlife, and fun facts relevant to the Chattahoochee River and the nearby lakes and streams. It was so nice to start the conversation with a couple questions and have a few to fill those beats in between hearing locals’ stories. One of my favorite questions was the first one:

What does the name "Chattahoochee" most commonly mean?

A. Fast Water
B. Painted Rock
C. Great Fish

Answer: B. Painted Rock — The name comes from the Muskogean language spoken by Native American peoples who lived along the river. Can also be translated to “marked rock". This refers to the colorful granite outcroppings and striking cliffs found along its winding course.

Our 90 mins conversation was video and audio recorded. Ultimately the voices of these participants will be layered into the soundscape I will be using for the free and public Hair Painting performance next year! These recordings will then be available to the public in the local libraries for future generations to discover and enjoy. Many of the stories shared with me during this dialogue will stick with me forever. Highlights from our time together include stories of young lovers hanging out in cars on the RiverWalk, myths of fish glowing in the dark from the polluted water in the 90s, the sordid legacy of Sin City, better known as Phenix City across the river in the 30-60s, and childhood memories of days spent fishing along the shore. The laughs, gasps and pure presence of all who participated continues to inspire me. I can’t wait for the next conversation I’ll be having down here in October. 

Special shout out to Leandro Zaneti for capturing these beautiful pictures of our time together.

COMING BACK TO THE CITY - DELAYS AND REFLECTION - APRIL 13, 2026

It’s time to go. My time in Mobile and New Orleans was honestly too short. But it’s okay — I’m already planning to go back in July! Everyone says it’s gonna be too hot to be trying to do anything near the gulf. Summer’s in Seale, AL got hot too. 100% humidity and 90+ degree weather will make anyone think they are trudging through a swamp. I’m curious if my childhood has prepared me to handle the weather that folks are warning me about. We will see, cause I’m coming!

I was hoping my flight back would be as easy as the flight here. But a mechanical issue led to an over hour delay on a full flight. I was actually already on the plane when we were told we had to deboard. I don’t mind a delay though in the airport (as long as it’s under a couple hours). Airports are these liminal, transient spaces — much like shores. Their terminals are perfect spaces for reflection, meditation or release. I know I can’t be the only one who has cried in an airport: It’s like a perfect place to discretely process what you’ve done and where you’re going. As I sat at this random bar, sipping on an overpriced glass of white wine, I took my moment to reflect — practicing my favorite ritual in this place. My 5 days in Mobile were so full. When I think about the time I spent here, actually, my last moment at the Quality Inn holds all the feelings defining this amazing visit. One of the hosts working the front desk (whose name I didn’t catch) wished me a genuine safe travel back to New York. “I hope your time in Mobile was beautiful. We loved having you here. Have a safe and quick trip back to NYC. New York! And you bedda come back here and see us.” Oh yes Ma’am. I’m coming back. Everyone I met in Mobile cares about community and wants to share its stories. They see me. They want to support me. They want me to succeed.

I made it back on the plane and was on my way. After another quick flight to Charlotte, and one to LGA, I was back in NYC.

(Btw the Ub*r Shuttle is the fastest cheapest way back home from the airport. Look into it.)

NEW ORLEANS - CITY OF ART, MUSIC, AND COMMUNITY - APRIL 12, 2026

I woke up at 5:45am to catch the 6:30 Mardi Gras Line Amtrak. I’m so happy the Quality Inn was only 9 mins away. Walking down Church Ave that early in the morning toward the river felt magical. Dense fog hung out in the street, so thick I couldn’t see down half a block. It was creepy. No lie. I knew I only had to walk 4 blocks to Water st. So I wasn’t that far. I just had to trust that the road in front of me was going where it was supposed to go. I definitely couldn’t see where it led. Out of the clouds appeared statues marking buildings no longer present but a history felt today. Palm trees, parking lots, and hotels emerged until I saw the train. We passed through 5 cities to get to New Orleans. Each stop is defined by its proximity to the water. I forgot that we have to pass through the entire state of Mississippi before reaching New Orleans. I imagined how many people have traveled this route to reach the beautiful and charming jewel in the gulf.

I met Noni Clemens from Arts New Orleans - we originally met via zoom after I cold-emailed her asking for advice about bringing my work to communities in New Orleans. I am so grateful that she responded. One of the first places we discussed was the Contemporary Art Center of New Orleans, directed by Raelle Myrick-Hodges and curated by DiQuan Forcell. They had a brand new exhibit titled FESTIVAL/NEW/WORKS featuring 18 Louisiana based artists. One of my favorites were pieces by Ron Bechet, a series of charcoal drawings. It was so nice to meet Noni, talk through my work, while reflecting on the art in front of us.

I made my way down the meandering streets until I found myself in the French Quarter and the river bank. Every block had a live musician playing original and cover songs complete with full drumkits and microphones. The energy in New Orleans matched New York – loud, strong, and deep. Yet, a playfulness and mystery colored the vibe. Several art galleries, historical monuments, and squares later it was time to get back to Mobile.

AFRICATOWN - WHERE HISTORY AND LEGACY ARE REMEMBERED - APRIL 11, 2026

I have been looking forward to coming to Africatown since I heard about its history. Founded by 32 West Africans brought to the United States on the illegal slave ship Clotilda in 1860, Africatown's once thriving Black community was nearly destroyed by the development of a highway splitting the plateau in half. Many people might be familiar with this neighborhood less than 4 miles away from Downtown Mobile through Zora Neale Hurston’s book Barracoon: The Story of the Last "Black Cargo". In 1927 she interviewed Oluale Kossola (also known as Cudjoe Lewis) about his forced passage from West Africa to New Orleans via this ship. He was thought to be the last known survivor of this original community. With research and time the last actual known survivor’s name was Matilda McCrear (also known as Àbáké) who died in Selma, Alabama in 1940 at the age of 83. The Africatown Heritage House holds their names and histories.

I was so grateful to walk through the Africatown Heritage House. While photography was not allowed in this exhibition due to respect for the solemnity of this history and land, the images and words that filled the walls of the galleries stayed with me. I was absolutely struck by the amount of first person accounts and stories about the illegal voyage across the Atlantic and their arrival to this unfamiliar world. Many of the quotes enshrined on the walls describe the difficulty and violence of enslavement, the yearning to return home, and the realities of establishing a new community and families in a harsh land.

The inherited oral histories about the Clotilda ship were dismissed as gossip and myths rather than actual historical accounts. This all changed through the efforts of historians, preservationists and the community itself – they know their history even if the books don’t reflect their truth. In 2019, pieces of the actual Clotilda were found in the Mobile River near 12 Mile Island. These exhibited artifacts confirm and affirm a local history that most tried to ignore.

As I was leaving I asked one of the docents about any stories or histories they could share about the water in the region. Pritchard, a community on the outskirts of Mobile doesn’t have consistent, drinkable water. She continued, Big Creek Lake, a common fishing ground for community members, isn’t accessible to folks anymore. The city has co-opted it for water and sanitation management. People can’t fish anymore. Our access to water is our access to life and the community we inhabit. Our habits, hobbies, traditions and even rituals rely on its consistent availability. As I rode back to my hotel, her words sat with me.

I have never shucked an oyster before. And after a quick nap, I soon wouldn’t be able to say that again. I met Elizabet and her husband Duane back in Mobile and we drove an hour to Gulf Shores to hang out with their best friends. I asked what brought everyone together that day. “Nothing special, although it is the first day we’ve done fresh oysters this season.” Shucking oysters ain’t easy, let me just say. I was told you have “to do it from the back.” So I grabbed a flat knife and dug in the back of the shell. “You’re looking for a small gap to slide your knife into.” Can I find the hole? I looked again. Finally my knife feels caught between the lips. One slide and a flick later, I see the meat. It took me three times to get the hang of it. By oyster seven I felt accomplished — I can shuck an oyster. But I was tired. Seven times was enough for me.

After a beautiful sunset drive over the waters that fill the bay, we made it back to Mobile. And I swiftly found myself back in my bed.

MEETING ONE OF MOBILE’S LOCAL HISTORIANS - APRIL 10, 2026

I had the great pleasure of meeting the Mobile native Sheila Flanagan, a local historian who worked for the Mobile Historical Museum and is now the lead docent at the Historic Avenue Cultural Center. At 71 years young, she beautifully weaved her own memories and personal narratives with the over 100 years of history about this important Black neighborhood. The Historical Avenue Cultural Center started out as the segregated (separate and unequal) library for Black residents in this community’s heyday. After decades of systemic extraction and underfunding, the once booming economic and social center of Black life in this part of Mobile disappeared. Many preservationists, historians and artists are working everyday to memorialize and revitalize this community.

One of the places on the spaces in this area that will be restored is the Ace theater. From the Alabama Contemporary Art Center website “Located on “the Avenue,” the Ace Theatre is one of the last surviving movie theaters that served all-Black audiences in Mobile. It was built in 1943 by James Huestis King, who operated King, Inc. and Southern Theaters, Inc. which also operated Pike and Crown Theaters.” This theater reminds me of the Liberty Theater in the Historic Downtown district in Columbus, Ga. Down the street from Ma Rainy’s preserved home, this theater over the last few years has been the focus of preservationists in Columbus. I remember as a kid having band camp with Mr. Handy on this historic stage. Not much was remodeled at that time, but it was safe and secure enough for us to perform for our parents who sat patiently in the audience. It is so important to revitalize these pieces of our local histories. They hold the legacies of all those who worked hard to transform land into community spaces.

After the best braised pork sandwich I’ve had in a while, I took a nap in preparation for what would be a long night – Art Walk Mobile. This art festival happens on every second Friday of the month and features local artists/artisans, businesses, and restaurants. Booths line up and down Dauphin St. and shops stay open late. Art Walk Mobile can attract crowds of 10,000 people on peak days.

I was able to check out Alabama’s Contemporary Art’s satellite space exhibition, Homestead Extinction by Tony Rodrigues. As I walked in the galleries (fake) cash money littered the floor, as if currency no longer matters in this world. Each room is filled with apocalyptic tents. From the ACAC website, “Rodrigues tackles the growing housing crisis... A series of new tent sculptures create an ad-hoc neighborhood, dowsed in the same pastiche, a superficial crust of wealth and decay… Through this fictional “neighborhood”, Rodrigues explores not only what we desire from our lived spaces, but the dilapidation, entropy and rot that riddle a broken system.”

Nikki (ACAC curator), her boyfriend, Alex (a local Black alt drag queen) and I walked the streets of Dauphin and passed a few booths on our way back to my hotel, very close by. As we walked past the door leading to the front desk, Trece greeted us, “Okay New York, how you have a crew already. You just got here. You got more friends than me. What are yall doing tonight?” We all laughed and said we are going dancing. In response she started dancing and of course I can’t let anyone dance alone, so I started dancing. She wished us a safe night out and we were on our way.

I’ve never been to a gay club in Alabama before. But one step into Flip-Side changed that. Why does every gay bar smell the same: it’s like a mixture of liquor and beer, cigarettes, and groomed clean bodies. I quickly relaxed. Gay bars have always been strong community spaces for me. If your city has a gay bar, I’m gonna go. One can understand so much by dropping by the local watering hole. Of course, I met so many people in the bar who were excited about the project that brought me down. I even met Jerry who owns multiple gay bars in town. I was reminded through several conversations about Zora Neale Hurston’s book Baracoon. I learned about organizations in town that preserve the shore's history but also monitor changes in environmental conditions like the Mobile Bay Keepers. Allie, a local real estate agent and her partner really had so many great suggestions on places to go, and who to talk to. Another great night in a gay bar.

MOBILE BOUND - April 9, 2026

I’m so excited about my first site visit on the Southern Shores Hair Painting Tour.  I can’t wait to begin my journey across the south meeting amazing folks, artists, and organizations. Flying to NYC to Mobile is so easy. After a familiar boarding at LGA and a short layover in Charlotte plus a 90 mins flight, I made it to Mobile. I am trying to remember the last time I was here. I think it had to be high school with the football team. Of course, I wasn’t on the team. I played flute in the pep band (first chair I might add). 

Once landed, I hopped in a Lyft and rode directly to the Mobile Museum of Art for the opening of “Handle with Care” curated by Micah Mermilliod of Alabama Contemporary Art Center, featuring the artists Calder Kamin and Jacob Reptile. ACAC is the arts org supporting and facilitating my coming to Mobile. While we’ve had multiple calls over zoom, showing up at the museum was the first time I met the whole team  - Nikki, Elizabet, Micah, and Allison.

The show was great. It’s rare in a museum space that visitors are encouraged to touch the work. As I walked into this exhibition, children laughing and playing struck me first. They were running around and touching all the sculptures made from recycled trash (plastic bags and bottles) and upcycled materials. Familiar animals, landscapes, plants and foods from the region hung from the walls and sat larger-than-life sized on the floor. As stated on the ACAC website, “Everything has been touched by human hands, and can be touched. Everything can find purpose with a little imagination, and the work of making a sustainable planet can also happen through play.”

Elizabet, the executive director and lead curator, dropped me off at my new home for the next 5 days, the Quality Inn in Downtown’s Historic District. As I walked in, two hosts greeted me from the desk, “Welcome to Quality Inn, checkin’ in?” As I approached the desk, “Yes I am.” Maybe noticing my accent, one woman (Trice) said, “Oh where are you from?” NYC. I smiled. “New York City! What brings you all the way to Mobile?” I’m an artist and I am doing a project asking locals about the history, myths, and oral stories about the rivers and waters that define and surround Mobile. That was enough context for them – they both immediately offered stories about a grandfather who started a popular hang out spot next to a river outside of town, or a story about the completely destroyed and replaced community of Down The Bay on the river front in Mobile. I asked if I could come back and record them sharing these stories and they excitedly agreed. 

It seems like this trip is starting out right. I’m grateful to have already met two folks who are excited about my work and want to participate. I can’t wait for the next few days to unfold.