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fontenot + family, 1961
This is the St. Ann’s Old Cemetery, which might mean you have to be old to be buried here. Or – and this might be slightly more likely – this cemetery got full and St. Ann got herself a new place.
Numa and Emily Fontenot, who were born in the 1860s, were pioneer settlers of Mamou. They had ten children (and needed a giant family tomb).
And I can tell you that their son Duma had a festive party in 1963 for his 77th birthday. According to the Ville Platte (Louisiana) Gazette, the party featured “homemade cakes, egg nog and other refreshments…(A) french band also provided music for dancing and merry-making.”
Mamou, Louisiana
photographed 10.22.2017
reservoirs of death
I was looking back through a batch of old pictures that were taken on two different trips to the Acadian parishes of Louisiana; there were a lot of images that were…not good. I like to think that in the ten years since I made those trips, I’ve learned a thing or two about photography, and maybe I have.
This starts a series of Louisiana images, all of which are edited in not my normal style – some times I feel like branching out.
Anyway, here’s a mausoleum that I found in a place called Mowata.
near Mowata, Louisiana
photographed 1.10.2016
…and His face was turned toward the sun
Jesus had lost his hands (I don’t know what happened), but at least he could face into the sun and watch the dying of the day.
Immaculate Conception Cemetery
Alamogordo, New Mexico
photographed 12.11.2025
information
I’ve just gotten back from a week of photography in New Mexico and El Paso.
I went primarily for a photo workshop at White Sands National Park; the night before it started, I went out to a nearby cemetery to re-learn how to use a camera that’s not my everyday one. A couple of local cemeteries seemed like good locations for my self-guided lessons.
Anyway, I sure did like the lower-case r that was hanging out with a whole line of upper-case ones.
Monte Vista Cemetery
Alamogordo, New Mexico
photographed 12.11.2025
marbled
This one hits hard – a simple concrete cross with glass marbles pressed into it. It made me think about the grief that led to its construction: the making of the form for the concrete, mixing up the concrete, some little kid give the important job of sorting marbles by color, pouring the concrete into the form, carefully pressing the marbles in, moving the finished cross to the cemetery, placing it in the ground…all of those scenes are vivid to me, as vivid as though I had witnessed them.
Trujillo, New Mexico
photographed 11.11.2025
One Day | One Image 