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Soft colors of the south
I lived in New Orleans for a few years, when I was in grad school, and this color palette is exactly the way I remember the city, where even the bright colors are muted.
Bruce Cockburn’s song “When You Give It Away” includes the line “languid mandala of a ceiling fan/teases the air like a slow stroking hand” comes to my mind every time I think of New Orleans. The heavy air there, so wet it seems to barely move, makes everything seem slow, languid.
(This is the last of the photos from my Louisiana trip. Tomorrow begins a new adventure, to the deserts of far West Texas.) (I like extremes.) (Apparently.)
St. Charles Avenue
New Orleans, Louisiana
photographed 10.25.2017
Gaslights
Gas lights were first introduced to New Orleans in 1824, and are still in abundant use today. Maybe they are what makes New Orleans?
Girod Street
New Orleans, Louisiana
photographed 10.26.2017
A day made for fishing
The way the grandpa’s head is tilted, like he’s trying to both see and hear the little boy, hits me in a way that I cannot explain.
Audubon Park
New Orleans, Louisiana
photographed 10.25.2017
Not for themselves
The university crest at the main entrance to Tulane University, shadowy in the early morning sun.
Tulane University
New Orleans, Louisiana
photographed 10.25.2017
Night Shift
Our waitress gave us a good tip – to go around back* and look in the window to watch the beignet-makers at work.
Café du Monde is open 24 hours a day, every day of the year except Christmas. That’s an unimaginable amount of powered sugar. And deliciousness.
Café du Monde
New Orleans, Louisiana
photographed 10.25.2017
*I know: I shouldn’t have needed reminding.
One Day | One Image 