Normal.

Everybody can hardly wait to get back to normal. Everybody can hardly wait until some government official declares everything is open.

Ain’t happening.

At least not until we can distribute some solid testing, and create a vaccine. I’d add herd imunity to this, but that means a lot of people have to die.

Normal. I’ll be very disappointed if we went throught this nightmare only to return to the way things were a couple of months ago. We very clearly saw the cracks and the fissures in every leavel of society. Physical creations have been severly tested too. I’m sounding like a broken record, but lets try to make things better.

Wait. Forget the word try. There is only do or not do. Yoda said that.

Everything is open. Yeah, right.

Let’s use Las Vegas as an example. The mayor has been screaming for an open city. She’s an idiot. Luckly, the Nevada governor said no. Think about it. The city thrives on the tourist trade. Do you think a bunch of people who are pretty broke are going to want to fly in an aluminum can so that they can stand in a crowded casino risking their lives?

The same goes for my fair city.

We have no real industry to speak of except for tourism. The same risk factors that apply to Las Vegas apply here. We even have casinos. Many people come here to eat, and with good reason. If a restaurant can afford to reopen, the owners will have to cut back service, maybe by half. How much fun will it be to eat and drink through a mask? The culture? Same crowding issue as Las Vegas casinos.

Bottom line.

This is gonna take a while.

Forget the big gatherings. If we don’t have viral surges as business does reopen, we will be lucky to hold huge events. Mardi Gras 2021? French Quarter Fest 2021? Jazzfest 2021? I’m not a betting man, but I do know that unless a little magic happens and we get very lucky, musical tours will not start until October 2021. Draw your own conclusions about festivals. And, Mardi Gras.

I know, I know, I know. We need music. We need art. We need culture. But, we are dealing with a virus who tells us what to do, not the other way round. I can’t speak for you, but I think I am positioned to deal with the issue of patience. After all, don’t I say, “don’t take the picture, let the picture take you?’

An old boss of mine used to say that the river flows in its own time. Embrace that. Live with it.

I saw some goodness today. I had to run an errand at Home Depot. The heroes who work there let people into the store a few at a time. Nobody pushed. Nobody ran from the parking lot to get in front of somebody moving slowly. Everybody kept their distance.

That’s the way you do it.

Stay safe. Enjoy every sandwich.


Like magic.

The light.

Like magic. In nature. On this day.

Two more to go. Then home. Happy to be here. Happy to be there. Time to take a break. Time to rest. Time to work. Harder.

No. I’m not trying to be any kind of poet. Most of you know that I’m lucky to be able to write in the English language. Or, any language. I confuse people. Sometimes. Sorry. Then, typos. Typo king. That’s me. My mind goes in one direction. My fingers in another.

Oh well.

Perfection is for angels. They say. Do you know any? I ask.

I listen to music when I write these posts. Spotify has a playlist called, “Sunny Day.” It’s light and energetic. But. Too much musical miss. For me.

The picture.

Hmmm. Mostly point and shoot. Make sure there is a window. In the background. To reflect light directly into the lens. Refraction. Reflection. Strange circles of light everywhere. That’s it. Simple. You can’t do it. Because. I can’t duplicate it. Again.

Very cool song. By Sufjan Stevens. Called Chicago. He’s got a trumpet going on. Reminds me of Mexican trumpets. I’ve always like that.

 

 


Drifting into the mystic.

Another one. Another picture that makes you smile. A version of yesterday’s post made from a different perspective.

And still.

That weird light refraction followed me.

I have no idea what it was. I think it was some strange bit of light bouncing around the water droplets in the air. Usually, that reflects something in the red spectrum, making the raw frame a little gray and muddy. Not this time.

Perspective. That’s a good word. Let’s talk about that.

A friend shared a post on Facebook. It was about #metoo. It was well written from the point of an expert in what I’ll call systems of belief. She was waiting for a plane with another expert. A man. A guy sitting across from them asked why they were there. They told him. He proceeded to go off on a tangent mansplaining his point of view rather than asking her for viewpoint. Her colleague proceeded to take this guy down. He did it gently and mentioned that he lost a great opportunity to learn from an expert.

All good.

I made the mistake of reading the comments. I never do that for obvious reasons. Most of the comments were fairly tame until. Until it devolved into a shouting match where women were attacking other women on little tiny points, calling each other sexist. WTH?

People, people, people.

This ain’t gonna help. Better to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes than to be so sensitive that you attack them for some little, insignificant point. Always to remember what they taught me in drunk school. When you point one finger at someone, the other three are pointing back at you.

If you want to change something – and a lot needs changing — work at it. Stop attacking each other on social media. Build. Don’t destroy. After all, faith without work is dead.

The picture. It’s one that I made when the sky was doing weird stuff. I even walked to a different location. The strange light followed me. Maybe it was meant for me. It did some post production. The first take looked very evil. Nasty.

So.

I thought, a dangerous thing to do, that I would make it gentle. Cotton ball-like.

See?

It’s all in your perspective.


Light everywhere.

Inside, out.

Light everywhere. Since a photograph is actually a Greek phrase that means drawing with light, I suppose a picture like this is about as pure as it gets. All light. Almost no subject. Content producers will probably hate this picture. It doesn’t sell anything or even try.

I made it on a day when I was strolling around. I saw a scooter. Later, I saw a big motorcycle. I saw this. Light bouncing around through a car’s windows. I did what I usually do. I made a picture even though the light was essentially backwards and I was photographing into it. It did take a little post production, mostly to darken it and give it some shape.

There you have it.


Frosty Sunset
Frosty Sunset

Boom. Like that.

Not quite so violent. It’s really condensation and frost on a car window at sunset.

While we were tearing around Orleans and Jefferson Parishes the other night we had the air conditioning in the car turned way up. We had to. Even though the storm finally came to an end, the heat and humidity didn’t. It was close to 90 degrees at 7:30pm. The combination of the blowing cold interior air and the wet, clinging, humid outdoor air met and clashed on the window and froze into little ice crystals. The sun did its thing. And I did mine. This is the result. Fine art. Or, something like that.