This was out goal. The Kenilworth Plantation House.
This was our goal. The Kenilworth Plantation House.

I wrote about this place a couple of days ago. But, I never showed you a picture. It is called The Kenilworth Plantation Mansion. Originally constructed in 1759, it was pretty much ruined by Hurricane Katrina. But, it was restored to way beyond its former glory. When I first saw it, I was stunned. I also couldn’t figure out how to photograph it. Sure, It’s a beautiful place. But, like all of the restored plantation homes — except for Laura – it’s white. White doesn’t often make for a great picture in this setting. But, I started playing with all of the hanging moss. You know, moss is a southern thing. It is also mostly found in very swampy, humid places.

When I started “developing” the pictures I wasn’t having much success. It was the fault of the moss. Moss isn’t bright and colorful. At least, not that I’ve ever seen. It’s usually sort of a green-gray washed out sort of thing. That doesn’t make a very good picture. So, now I’ve got the deadly combination of white and faded green-gray. Arrrrgh.


I came back to my sense of place. These old southern mansions — at least the ones that aren’t in ruins — are about a certain time and place in history. Sort of a dream-like sort of thing. So, I changed directions. I made this picture about a dream. In more practical terms, that meant a lot of experimenting. I don’t usually use the tools that make a picture like the one you are looking, possible. I’m usually more efficient than that. But, my mind was drifting around. This was made possible by the fact that when I went to bed on Monday night, I didn’t fall asleep until Tuesday morning at 10am. I managed to sleep for all of three hours. From about 10am until about 1pm. So, I don’t know what was going on. Mentally, I was in a huge fog. But, be that as it may, by the time I started working everything I did was sort of by remote control. And in, what seemed like, another place. I don’t recommend this way of working for anyone. But, maybe I’m finally becoming an artist. Or not. Like, I’m still just disoriented. I promise not to cut off my ear. Van Gogh, I’m not.