Gina Leslie
Honey Island Swamp, Louisiana
I know Gina because Pheobe sent me her way. I picked her up at a pink house on Fats Domino ave. It was full of musical instruments and a friendly dog. Her Tinyboatsession was going to be at the Honey Island Swamp, about 45 minutes out of New Orleans. This pretty little spot had become one of my favorite rows. Spanish moss hung from Cyprus bright green from spring. Ospreys, egrets and herons watched alligators and bull frogs. Gina brought a new guitar and wore a wonderful red cloak. In the back of the boat in the back of the bayou she might have been a Louisiana little Red Riding hood. She sang sad songs about heartbreak and loving off her debut album, ‘No, You’re crying. We had a beer, looked for more critters and saw cypress knees. The wind rustled in the trees and we squeezed all the sunset out of the day. We had a great time, and she sent me the names of some more wonderful musicians. @ginarly