Well. It may be a tuba. But, that’s not the point. The point for me, at least , is the reflection in the brass of the tuba. I saw this at a second line parade in Central City. I’d like to say that I was lucky to see this, but I was very much in the moment on that day. I try for that on many occasions. But, it rarely happens. In fact, I’ve long come to realize that you cannot try. You  can only be. What is it that Yoda said? “You cannot try, or not try.” ” You can only do.” So, Yoda was a Zen believer. I guess. Anyway, I saw everything on that day. Time did not standstill. But, it did slow down. A lot. The pictures were very simple to make at that point.

Post Production. I guess you can figure out that I didn’t have to do very much. I did tone down the background because I wanted to emphasize the reflection. But, I didn’t want it to disappear because that set the place.

Ah yes. One night in The French Quarter.One night on Bourbon Street. Bourbon Street. The street where music never stops. The girls always beckon. If you pay for them. The place where beer and alcohol flows like water. It smells like it. The place where a lot of people show their true selves. It is probably my least favorite street in The Quarter. But, I go there. Sometimes. Looking for pictures. Like this one. Not much to it. See the picture. Point the camera. Press the button. Shoot. 

Yesterday, I wrote a little about Freret Street and its relationship to Central City. I thought I’d give you all a quick look at the street and some of the things that you can see there. It’s an overview and I’m sure I’ve missed something that somebody might think is important, but these kinds of shoots are always a work in progress.

… side of the street.  I’ve been posting pictures of various windows that are frosted by condensation created when the hot, humid air of a New Orleans summer bumps against a window that has been chilled by the cold, air-conditioning that is found almost everywhere when you duck inside. This little semi-natural phenomenon is usually found on the shady side of the street where outdoor moisture lingers. But, what happens on the sunny side? Well, the windows are bright and look like they normally do since the warm sunlight burns away just enough of the moisture in the air to keep the windows clear. Anyway. I think that’s what happens.

For folks who come to The French Quarter mostly to party, they might be surprised to find that The Quarter has some great art galleries, clothing stores and even home furnishing stores. I photographed this picture in a window of one such store that is located on Royal Street. Not much to it. It is simply f8 and be there. And, post production was very simple. Sharpen, brighten and increase the saturation just a bit. That’s it. The picture is pretty much as it found me. 

So. A few nights ago I attended White Linen Night in New Orleans. The Crescent City. The Big Easy. The City That Care Forgot. Yeah. That place. The weather really was a little too hot and too humid for my taste. But, we were all dressed in white so we were cooler. We thought. We weren’t. And, we certainly weren’t cool in the hip sense of the word. Way too much white. We were mostly just soggy and hot. But, that didn’t stop some people from dancing the night away. Here some are some of the dancers now. Dancing in CAC or the Contemporary Arts Center. Wonderful art space. Really too hard to give the art its due with sooooo many people milling around. But, worth visiting. I think I go there once every five or so years, whether I need to or not. That’s not fair. A hurricane kept me away for many of those years. Anyway. For those who want to know the technical stuff. ISO 100, f 5.6 and little the shutter speed fall where it may. 

So. I went to White Linen Night in New Orleans. Maybe 35,000 people — mostly in white — trying to look at art, have a bunch of drinks and eat some miniature food while milling around the arts district. It was hot, humid and very sultry. Well. Too hot. Too humid. Not that much sultry. But, I’m glad that I went. I did something that I’ve never done. And, I won’t have to do it again. As usual, I made a lot of pictures. Too many pictures.


The best picture was my own art. At least, I think it’s the best picture. Even if it isn’t, at least I made my own art. Then I really over did it in post production. You’ll see. Have a look. It’s not often you see a chair sitting on a loading dock. At night.  

I’m not even sure what to call this picture. I suppose it’s mostly about color. I made it as part of my four-year old picture a day project. But, I made it as I was going from place to another. From my car windshield. Just as my traffic light turned green. Oh. Not to worry. There was nobody waiting behind me. I’d like to think that I’m not one of those. Maybe I am when it comes to pictures.

I wrote in an email to a friend of mine and said that I was feeling like a Jimmy Buffett song in which he said; “the new album’s old and I’m fresh out of tunes.” I’m out of  blog publishable images. That’s not to say I haven’t been working on three BIG projects, but they aren’t ready for prime time. In fact, one may never be. We’ll have to see about that. So, this morning I set out to do something about it. I awoke on the early side and had a walk about in The French Quarter. I walked for an hour. I ate a light breakfast and had a coffee. I walked for another hour. When I was drenched enough from the heat and horrible humidity, I headed for the car. Luckily, I was seeing pretty well so I made a lot of pictures. I was about to blow them all out in one day. But, that doesn’t work. Pinterest doesn’t like that. My tag list becomes way too long. And I run out of pictures again. So, one at a time for the next few days. Here’s one now.  How did I make it? F8 and be there. The best way for me to find these “little” pictures is to walk. That’s what I did. Why am I so late? Lunch with a friend. 11:30 until 3:30. New Orleans lunch.

So. I was looking for a higher angle to photograph the beginning of Uncle Lionel’s second line parade. The best I could do was stand on the stoop — or porch, to some of you — of an old abandoned house. Yes. There are plenty of them in New Orleans. Some 62,000 by last count. While I was there, this young guy asked if he could share. Of course he could. He also agreed to add something special to my crowd picture. Here he is now.