Time Doesn’t Stop



Rust never sleeps. Either does nature.

I like my own form of urbex. Urban exploration. It’s gotten very popular around the world. Explorers clump around in hiking books and take pictures of whatever they’ve found. They sneak onto private property. They cross over no trespassing signs. The jump over fences. Go around gates. There are even protocols for doing this. The buddy system. Wear heavy shoes. Bring water. Bring lights. Wear long-sleeved shirts. Wear long pants. And, so on.

I live in New Orleans. The city that care forgot. For as many of these mouldering old hulks that have been demolished and had their lots cleaned up, there are just as many still standing. They are right on the street. I don’t have to sneak, cross, jump or go around anything. Of course, even if I had to, I would never do any of those things. Oh no. Not me.

It dovetails nicely with my work in Central City. I can photograph residents. Then, I can photograph a second line. And, Mardi Gras Indians. On my way to someplace else, I can stumble onto or into something like this place. It all blends together nicely.

Lucky me. I live in an interesting place. You know what the Chinese say about interesting.



Comin’ Out The Door…

Chaos. Music. Tradition.

Chaos. Music. Tradition.

Yesterday. Easter Sunday.

Four second lines. One was a funeral for a Mardi Gras Indian. One was a brand new parade. Two were anniversary parades. This one happens to be the 20th Anniversary Original Pigeon Town Steppers and Ladies Pigeon Town Steppers. The TBC Brass Band made the music.

The tuba starts it. The drums fill it. The trumpets and trombones call it out.

The music.

Then, they come out the door. Dancers. The King. The Queen.

Chaos. Noise. Loudness. Movement. Motion. Color. Music. Celebration. Crowds. Smiles. Dancing. Tradition. Ritual.

People start with the parade. They start walking. Some drop out. Others drop in. New bands join along the way. They take breaks. They keep going until the reach their final destination.

It’s the heart and soul of New Orleans. It always was.



Out on the Road. Take 537 or Something Like That.

Somewhere out on the road.

Somewhere out on the road.

My pictures are often about “What does it feel like to…”

This is about what it feels like to be out on the road. Southeastern style.

In the Southwest, the road would be winding through the desert. On the Pacific Coast, it’s somewhere on PCH. Pacific Coast Highway. Highway 1. And, so it goes.

What more could I want? A two-line highway stretching to the horizon. Pine trees. White puffy clouds.

Perfect… for me. What would make a road trip perfect for you?

Perfect Day…

Spring Flowers

Spring Flowers

It’s Easter Sunday. Y’all deserve a pretty flower. Done my way.


About the Time the Door Knob Broke…

Somebody's stuff on the Street.

Somebody’s stuff on the Street.

Treme. The neighborhood. Not the HBO television show.

Some of it being rapidly gentrified. Some, not. Eventually, it will be. It always is.

Obviously, this building is just hanging on. Like the neighborhood itself, once. The storm changed that. Some of the neighborhood flooded. This area did not. The storm spotlighted the neighborhood. All sorts of people started buying houses and rehabbing them. They lived in some. They rented some to other outsiders. Once again, the neighborhood that gave birth to jazz and local Creole food, is changing. But, not all at once.

These pictures are evidence of that. I saw the first picture as I was driving by after photographing a second line parade. I stopped, made the over all picture and moved in closer to have a look at the details. I like details. So…

Boarded Windows

Boarded Windows

She Can Sing ‘Em All Night…

Vanessa Neimann of Gal Holiday & The Honky Tonk Review.

Vanessa Neimann of Gal Holiday & The Honky Tonk Review.

Gal Holiday & The Honky Tonk Review.

Gal Holiday & The Honky Tonk Review.

As promised. A couple of musician pictures from the Freret Street.

This is Gal Holiday & The Honk Tonk Review.

Well. There is no Gal Holiday. The lead singer is Vanessa Neimann. I’m not sure of the rest of the band personnel. But, they sure can play. Better yet, they seem to be making a break through.

Why them? Why now?

Mostly because I promised you. I do photograph a lot of musicians. And, I liked this band. A little country. Well, a lot country. When I heard them, they were working through a very rainy day. The rain didn’t stop them. They played on.

The pictures. The usual. F8 and a be there. Work the margins and find the beat.

Stuck in Traffic

Traffic art.

Traffic art.

Power lines and clouds.

Power lines and clouds.



Levee construction.

Levee construction.

Stuck in traffic. Again. It used to be that driving on River Road was a pleasure. It was like driving on a pretty country road… in the city. Not so much any more. The traffic hasn’t gotten worse. The fine folks at The Army Core of Engineers are doubling the height of the river levees. So, the traffic jams should be temporary. That’s a good thing.

Or, is it?

This region hasn’t had river levee problems. Those levees were fine during the storm. They didn’t over top. They didn’t break. Those were other levees. More downriver. In New Orleans.

This is one of those things that falls under the heading of, “it can’t hurt.” So, it’s all good.

But, the construction really hurts the traffic flow.

There are a lot of ways to deal with stalled traffic. You can zone out. You can turn up the music and start singing. You can get angry. You can start texting.

I’m not sure that any of those things are good ideas.

I’m not sure if my idea is any better. I made photographs. Or, maybe just snapshots. I opened the sun roof. I took pictures of trees and bamboo. I took pictures through the windshield. I let the camera focus on nothing. I’m not sure what I really did. At least it wasn’t my version of a drive by. I’ll let you decide. At least, I didn’t zone out, sing loudly and badly, text or get angry.

After all, it was a nice day. The sun was out. What’s wrong with sitting in the sun? And, taking pictures?



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