Sunset on the bayou.

Some say that I don’t like sunsets.

Those folks would be wrong. I like sunsets. I like what they represent. I like their color. I like their power. I like them when they are peeking through trees. I like their light. I like to see where their light falls.

But, those folks do speak with a grain of truth.

I get bored with the same old sunset picture. The one that was taken because you were there, not because it was spectacular. The one with the pier carefully framed somewhere within the picture. The one that you’ve seen a thousand times before.

I suppose that I like sunsets when they are just a part of the final picture. I have a friend who works in New Orleans, but who lives out by the airport in Kenner. He drives west to go home. The sunset is in his face. He always makes a unique image because he includes a little bit of the interstate, a few cars, a drainage canal. It’s not the sunset per se. It’s about the sunset.

Think about that.

And, think about where that wonderful and amazing golden-orange light is falling. Surely, it’s illuminating something that might be interesting.

The news that fits

There are a lot of protests in New Orleans. The protesters have taken to the interstates. They’ve blocked traffic making it very inconvenient for people who are passing by. Pictures are posted on Facebook, some from news sources, some from private citizens.

There are often a lot of comments.

I forget that aside from New Orleans, I live in a pretty red state. The comments are amazing. Aside from wanting to punish the protesters for blocking the interstate, most of the commenters have no clue of how a protest works. In order to gain attention often time passersby are inconvenienced. That’s the whole point.

And, that is a big difference between protesting and rioting, breaking windows and starting fires.

Last night the protesters moved to The French Quarter. There was talk of them tearing down the statue of Andrew Jackson. A small group of locals hate him as much as they hated the Confederate generals.

And this.

If somebody started a fire in the quarter, it could harm a good portion of it. The French Quarter has burned three or four times in history. The current version is still around 250 years old. The last time it was rebuilt, the Spanish owned the state. That’s why The French Quarter has mostly Spanish architecture.

I was going to photograph the protest. It’s history. It’s one element of what could be a huge change. I was reminded very strongly that CoVid19 is still hovering. That I am old. Or, at least at an age when catching the virus could be fatal. I was also reminded that I have the underlying condition of CLL.

Obviously, in the face of such overwhelming data, I chose to stay home. That’s not exactly true. I tried to sneak out through a side gate. I was going to walk down the street and catch the streetcar. They were waiting for me. With a pitchfork. And, a bat. And, dogs.

Oh well.

The picture

It’s a sunset, alright. A pretty nice one. It’s poking through some trees. It hides a little. It’s my kind of sunset. Seeing it was the hardest part of making the picture. The rest was easy, just as it should be.

Stay safe. Stay mighty. Enjoy every sandwich.

Dusk comes to what is now called The Shrine on Airline.

Ah, dusk.

The picture almost looks like it could have been made in France. It wasn’t. It was made at a park and baseball stadium now called, The Shrine on Airline.

To me and many others, we think that’s a stupid name. It is home for the next two weeks to a AAA baseball team, called The Baby Cakes. That has to be the stupidest name ever for a sports team. The name and the team branding was created by two 22 year old designers from San Diego. They spent a whole three days in New Orleans. They thought they knew us. Anywhere is more complex than that.

The name is sort of a shortened version of the baby that comes in a king cake. It doesn’t make sense in the way that they used it. There was a big commotion about it, but team management kept the name. The sold a lot of merchandise, which is what mattered to them. After all, who doesn’t love an evil little baby holding a baseball bat in traditional Mardi Gras colors?

In two weeks, the Baby Cakes last ever game will be played in Greater New Orleans. They are moving to Wichita, Kansas, where a $90 million dollar stadium is being built for them. The team owns the name so that may travel with them. Thankfully.

At this point there is no replacement for them. There are a lot of AA teams located in the Gulf Coast. Hopefully, one will come here. I hope so. The baseball quality will be better since that’s where the stars of tomorrow play, as opposed to AAA where the stars of yesterday are rehabbing or hoping to catch another shot at the “big show.”

See what comes out of a simple little picture. Hopefully, you just learned something. Or, not.

One more thing.

I’m a New York Yankee fan. I was born to be one. Their AA team is based in New Jersey. Maybe the parish can lure them down here,

They are called The Pork Rolls.

Spring 3
Trees, flowers and the sun.

So. I went out looking for one kind of picture. I came back with this. What’s a young photographer to do? Or, an old one. For that matter. The picture? Walk around and find it. When I did. I made a few frames. 158 to be exact. I got my shoes wet. And, I almost slipped in the mud trying to get to the picture as I envisioned it. This is an example of the old saying, “If the picture isn’t good enough, you aren’t close enough.” Robert Capa said that. I won’t tell you what happened to him next.

When it rains around here, we often get some very pretty light as the clouds break and the sun peaks through the remaining clouds. Yes. The light is pretty. But, not as pretty as it is in — oh, say — New Mexico. But, that’s a whole other story. A better story is this one. Although I very rarely get lost, I completely misplaced my favorite street in New Orleans. Yeah. I know. Probably early onset something or other. But, this is amazing. Even to me. There is an old section of New Orleans that was once a heavy warehouse district. But, not THE warehouse district. For the most part, it stands alone and forgotten. One of the streets is still paved in cobblestones. The buildings on either side of it are made of brick. For the longest time, I was convinced that the cobblestones had been torn out and replaced by concrete. Well. That didn’t happen. The street moved. Well. That didn’t happen either. I just completely missed my mark. The cobblestone street is still there. The only thing that has changed is that someone either lives or works in a building I thought was abandoned and the brick building on the other side of the street is being restored. Slowly.

Anyway. Here’s the picture. It’s pretty much f8 and be there. Very little post production. I didn’t need to do that. Nature did that.

I rarely post alternate versions of the same shoot. But, I had to. I think I like this one more that the first attempt, Since you know the story of the place, I’ll let that go. For now. Post production was done on my i-Pad using Snapseed from an original i-Phone image. New media. I guess.

The Holy Cross area in New Orleans is actually a sub-district of The 9th Ward. Sub district is one of those words that I stumbled upon while researching what I photographed. So, this is St. Maurice Church. It’s been decommissioned by the Catholic Church in New Orleans and is now for sale. The church was built in 1857. It really doesn’t look it, but that’s what the sign on the wall said. That’s also what any history I found said. It must be correct. Maybe not. I’m skeptical that way. Numbers add up to nothin’, you know?

The bits.

First, St. Maurice. He was the leader of the Roman Theban Legion. They were famous. In the Third Century. He was ordered by Maximian to kill a large group of Christians. He refused and Maximian ordered his own troops be decimated. That means killing one of every ten soldiers. When that didn’t work, he killed them all. The Christians. The soldiers. And, St. Maurice. He did that in what is now Switzerland. And, you wonder why they stay neutral.

Second. Holy Cross. It is the final eastward development of New Orleans. It was established in 1849 by a group by brothers, sisters and priests of — you guessed it — The Order of The Holy Cross. They built an orphanage which became what was Holy Cross School in 1895. The school moved to Gentilly — another area in New Orleans — after the entire Holy Cross area was flooded by Hurricane Katrina.

I didn’t know any of this until I took the picture and decided to do a little poking around. Well, that’s not entirely true. I know what decimated means. I studied Latin in high school. Anyway, it just shows you what a little research can do. That, and boredom.

The picture. More i-Phone work. I tuned it up a bit. Well, a lot. I used by Snapseed and OnOne to do the work. The picture was silhouetted, but didn’t have much else. I thought the church was a little spooky so I created a picture to reflect what I saw. 


I don’t normally ask for things like this. But, please vote for this picture. Here. I’ve entered it in a fellow blogger’s travel photo contest.

The picture?

It was made a few years ago in Albuquerque, New Mexico on the opening day of The International Balloon Fiesta. It was mostly a combination of luck and, well, luck. I was heading towards the balloon field for the first morning’s mass ascension when I ran into a massive traffic jam on the interstate. Yes. I left for the even in plenty of time. By the time I worked my way through all the traffic many of the balloons were already in the air. So I  drove around to the backside of the balloon field and happened to find the this picture. 

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.

It must be my mood. I like this picture. A lot. I don’t know why. It was made in Albuquerque, New Mexico. It is located at the most far western end of Central Avenue, which means it is also where the Albuquerque’s section of old Route 66 comes to an end. This was one of those combination gas station-restaurant-grocery stores. I have no idea whether it was abandoned first and then burned, or the other way around.  But, this is what it looked like when I got to it.

Yes. I’ve done some things to this picture to help you see what I felt. The workflow is a little complicated. I made the exposure with a Nikon, I uploaded it to my i-Pad and did the post production in Snapseed which is a Nik product. Then I sent it back to my main computer. As I wrote, I like the picture. I’d love to know what you think.

Where Route 66 and Central Avenue comes to an end in western Albuquerque, New Mexico.