awe

I've got some catching up to do…but will try to use "awe" as a central theme/ recurring experience of the past few days.  Saturday was the Brooklyn Museum Book Fair and once again, it was an intense, fantastic experience.  I arrived 15 minutes late and the pavilion was already packed with families…and that was my first moment of awe: how do parents do it?  how do you wake at dawn (because that's when kids get up, even on the weekend), feed your kids, take them to swimming/soccer/art class, get them lunch, and THEN spend up to 4 hours at a book festival?  I was exhausted and I was SITTING the whole time!  Each child was collecting stamps from authors, so the kids were circulating, the parents were keeping up, browsing books, buying books, pushing strollers, and chatting with us.  I had the good fortune of being paired with Emily Goodman, horticulturist and author of Plant Secrets.  She gave me some helpful tips for my Xmas storybook, and also brought crayons so the children could draw pictures of plants.  In this age of digital everything, it was amazing to watch children's faces light up at the sight of new crayons and white paper…then they drew so intently, with such detail.  One child, Zora, came back 3 times just to draw more pictures!  Kids amaze me.  I'm in New Orleans right now, courtesy of PEN American Center—thank you, thank you Fatima Shaik and everyone else at PEN who made this possible.  The MLK Academy is in the lower Ninth Ward, and on the way home today my fabulous hostess, Karen Ott, drove me down the street where Brad Pitt's Make It Right project is building eco-friendly homes for (and with) residents.  The Ninth Ward is a patchwork quilt—lots of different colors, textures, and homes in various conditions.  I haven't taken any photos because I don't want to act like a tourist in someone else's neighborhood.  This community has been through enough.  The kids are *great*—will have to write about them tomorrow; today we did writing workshops based on Bird, and tomorrow we'll move on to Wish.  These kids are survivors…but they're also kids—regular kids.  I want to make sure I remember that.  Last night my hostess took me to the House of Blues—tonight we're going out again; I'm trying not to be my usual homebody self.  It's New Orleans!  But I don't feel like a tourist.  I feel lucky…in so many ways.