Pretty, pretty.

The middle day.

The so-called hump day of the business week. That is if you work five days a week in something like a 9 to 5 job.

I don’t  know anybody like that. I was working into the late night after taking a mid-day break. A short one. Same kind of day, today. It doesn’t stop. Sure. There are times when I don’t work as much. You know. Ebb and flow. The calendar might set my schedule, but the clock doesn’t.

How about you? How do you work? When? For how long?

Anyway.

This picture is yours. It’s a simple picture. I turned it into a watercolor painting. Almost. It’s peaceful. Quiet. A positive image.

That was my intent.

Advertisements


Before the big red moon.

Before the big giant red wolf moon. And whatever else.

This picture is representative of what our skies looked like down here in the swamp. Something, huh? I made it during a break in the big football game. That’s all I’m saying about it, except to say that Stephen Colbert lead with it on his show. He continued to use the video of the illegal hit whenever he talked about incompetence. And, he doesn’t really follow sports.

That said, I saw a lot of red moon pictures on various social media. Aside from taking a picture of the red moon, the picture that I liked the best was a picture of a piece of pepperoni stuck on a window. It was funny. It made a point.

Taking pictures of any moon may satisfy your need to document it, but there is no context. It’s just a red thing in the sky, no matter how sharp you make it.

Contest is important. Seriously, the best pictures of the moon to my way of thinking, is one that has something that you can relate to. For instance, I saw a picture made from a cliff. The city lights were below and a person was in the foreground. That said a lot to me. I saw a couple of others that were that were about the same. I knew that in New Orleans I didn’t have a great view from wherever I worked, so I made the best picture I could much earlier in the moon rise.

That’s kind of the big take away. Make the best picture you can within what natural limitations occur. In my case, I really have to figure out how far to walk without feeling too much pain. When I do, I stop and take a break. Maybe, it’s for coffee. Maybe, I just sort of hang out and wait for a picture to appear in front of me. Usually, after a few minutes of sitting I’m good to go for a good while. Then I stop again if I need to. That’s for me. Most of you don’t have my photographer’s condition. I’m pretty sure my work in the old days, when we always carried too much stuff, is a big cause for what I feel today. I often quote Neil Young who said, “The things that make you are will kill you in the end.” He’s right. At least for me.

Speaking of Neil Young, a friend of mine mentioned in an email that I didn’t mention the passing of his ex-wife, Pegi, on Storyteller. My feelings are a little private, as are most of the people in this house. Let’s just say this. Pegi was like an aunt or other mom to many people who worked with her. Not only was she a good musician working in her husband’s shadow for 37 years, but she founded the Bridge School for severely learning impaired children. She and Neil founded the Bridge School Benefit concerts that ran for around 30 years. Neil has a big Rolodex from which he invited musicians who he wanted to hear play. It was considered a huge honor to be on that stage. Musicians, played acoustically and they turned around from the audience from time to time to play to the school’s children who sat just backstage facing the crowd. Some of those shows were hair-raising. David Bowie turned around to the kids and played, “Heroes.” Buffalo Springfield reunited there. Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young reunited there at a time much like today, when everybody thought that they’d never play together. Neil chased Norah Jones around the stage trying to get her to play guitar around his guitar.

Memories.

Anyway.

Pegi. Long May You Run.


Flowers bloom, Autumn or not.

I told you. We have a second growing season down here in the swamp.

I found this scene on a walk. A long walk since we weren’t dodging raindrops.

I’d say this is a good exercise in seeing, but how could I miss? The flowers were calling to me from thirty yards away. The only thing that I had to do was frame them in a way that made sense to me, and hopefully, to you. I wanted them reaching for the light and the sky.

I think the picture works.

The picture makes me smile, or laugh. Speaking of laughter… oh, never mind. I just hope the world was laughing at him, not the country. We still matter.

 


I found a flower.

I found a flower. A tiny translucent thing. I’ve seen them before. When they are a little older. They are pale yellow. This one is young. You can see through its petals. It is such a gentle thing that I was afraid to get too near.

Enjoy it as it is. I’m certain that if someone doesn’t pick it, it won’t look quite like it did when I made the picture. And, that’s one of the best things about photography. We stop time. As it was. For a  millisecond.

I’ve been thinking about two other things.

I think that I’ve been going too far in post production. Unless I am truly making a piece of art that is beyond the real world as I saw it, I’m stretching things out too much. I’m a photographer. Not a painter.

And.

Tom Wolfe. Where are the words from all the writers who read Storyteller? I’m guessing that many of you are youngish, you’ve never read him. You should. Most of you fancy yourselves to be rule breakers. He broke them all. His writing style was hmm, sort of flamboyant, But, his words brought you there. He immersed himself in his subject, not by doing some googling research, but by being there. Oh wait. That’s a title by Jerzy Kosinski. Have you read that?

I was taught that in order to write, you have to read. And, read widely. Not just from your favorite genre. I was also taught that in order for your work to be read it had to be original. It had to break new ground in both plot and writing.

I know these things to be true. And, I’m a lowly photographer. The guy who works in an art that anybody can do. Writing is different. It’s hard. You must live it. Really live it.

 


More purple.
More purple.

There’s more to that headline.

It goes like this, “When you walk down the street, keep a big smile on your face and you’ll be amazed at how many people will ask you what the hell is so funny.”

Humor. It’s a great thing.

I’d go there today. But, I need a little quiet time.

Besides, I have to respond to an old friend, who wants to turn Vampy into a woman and make her part of the secret service, move her to Washington D.C.. He wants her to bite the Klown who is Korrupting the Kountry. Sheesh. Crowd sourcing. By the way, did you see what I did there? Heh.

The picture was simply made. Stick the lens almost into the hanging flowers. Fuchsias. And fire away.


Purple
Purple

Before y’all ask. I don’t know. It’s purple. It’s pretty and it’s a flower.

As I’ve said before, I only know a couple of things about flowers. Red flower. Yellow flower. Purple flower. Pretty Flower. Rose.

It’s Sunday. It’s still a long week which really won’t end until Monday.

Enjoy the pretty purple flower.


Flowers... Winter, New Orleans.
Flowers… Winter, New Orleans.

I promised you, something different on Sunday. I sort of reneged. But, that’s only because we stumbled onto an all-but-over second line parade. So. I made this dreamy little thing while I was still sick. I had to do something. So, I stumbled outside, set the shutter speed to something slow and let nature take its course. A lot of blur. A lot of movement. All art. All nature. And, I didn’t fall on my face.

For those of you who have just started reading Storyteller, I have to be honest. Even though I sort of focus on certain projects, I am a little bit all over the place. I follow my muse. And, her muse. And, another muse. And, a poodle. And, two cocker spaniels. It’s better to follow those dogs. They know what they are doing.

Oh yeah. I spoke too soon. Whatever illness I had is trying to return. It seems to be a death match. I’d better win. I’ll be real disappointed if I don’t.


Cars, carriages and people crowd their way onto Royal Street.
Cars, carriages and people crowd their way onto Royal Street.
Even the side streets were crowded in the Quarter.
Even the side streets were crowded in the Quarter.

I needed a little break from the holiday. So I took the poodle and went for a walk in The French Quarter. I was talking to a friend of mine who lives in some other place and I told him I was doing that. He seemed amazed. Going to The French Quarter for most of the world means flying from somewhere else, and hiding out in a hotel. Us? It’s a ten minute drive. I haven’t felt much like making pictures lately. I don’t know why. So main intent was to have a nice walk. But, I always carry a camera. The air was brisk and chilly. The light was just about right and I started making a few snaps. The next the thing I knew I was actually having a little fun.

The Quarter was very crowded. I couldn’t figure it out. The people seemed more touristy than usual. They were getting lost, wandering into the street to almost be run over by a mule drawn carriage. Or, by a speeding taxi. Some were standing on darkened streets trying to figure out how to use Google maps, all the while risking something bad because they looked lost. When I see that, I generally I ask if they need help. The Quarter may look like an adult Disneyland, but it can get a little dangerous if you don’t know what you are doing and look a little lost.

Anyway, it finally came to me. The Quarter was crowded because there were all sorts of people in town for a big football team game at The Superdome. Two out-of-town football teams. Grambling and Southern, or something like that. Normally I stay away from crowds. But, not tonight. I’m glad I stayed around. I made a lot of good pictures including these two which just seem a little sparkly and colorful to me. Maybe it’s the magic of the season. I don’t always see The Quarter this way. Often, to me, it is gritty and dirty.

The pictures? Oh, they are simple. See light, frame the picture, push the button. Not much post production. Mostly just to give the pictures the sparkly, gem like quality that I saw.

Oh. The Poodle made a lot of new friends.