Saturday Night Fish Fry

An age old tradition in the Deep South where my beloved Blues was born, was dancing, drinking, gambling, and fried fish, most often catfsh from the local waters. Not for the faint, these weekly celebrations were a law unto themselves unless things truly got out of hand and outside intervention was required. It's fascinating to see the internal rules created by all sociological groups. And how these raucous parties preserved these struggling people's sanity in some way while providing raw emotional release that would scare many straight laced people out of their wits.

This fine lady in her charming abode, though, seems to be releasing her fish into the heavens rather than frying them to that perfect brown crisp.
Illustration by Nicoletta Ceccoli