Nobody Ever Listens

A little city property
A little city property

Mid City. New Orleans.


Yes, everything is going well along the greenway. The one that I wrote about during the fifteen days of Katrina. Yet, a block away is a City of New Orleans facility. For used street signs. All sorts of signs. Street names. Stop signs. One way signs. You know, the signs that control traffic flow and tell you where to go. Well, that’s not exactly what I meant.

For those of you who have been around for a while, you’ve seen the location. But, the pile of signs has grown. And grown and grown and grown. I’d think that at some point this scrap metal would be recycled. Or not. After all, I live in a recycled city.


As I’ve written in the past, anything in this city that doesn’t move, gets tagged. Even “Do Not Enter” signs. I have no idea what “Do Not TEAMUS Enter” even means.

The picture. Yeah. I saw it. I reacted. I took it. Pretty simple. It’s one of those quirky pictures. One day, maybe I’ll go back and really work it. It was really hot on the day that I was there. I tried to work as quickly as possible. I added some rust, mold and dirt in post production.

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