28 February 2007

The Great American Exhale

Written in October of 2001 in Venice, LA. I had sent it in a letter to a friend, probably many friends and forgot about it. The thoughts of "our" post 9-11 world shortly thereafter. I'm sure it is somewhere in my hard drive, but I will re-type it here from that letter...fixing all spelling errors though.

The Great American Exhale

The first thing I noticed was the red, white and blue ribbon tied around the up-turned hoof of the deer mounted on the near wall. News channel six was reporting that the National Guard was being stationed at the Louis Armstrong International Airport for security purposes, to be an armed and noticeable presence, but have no fear, Super Bowl will remain. A few schedules to be rearranged for automakers and carnival krewes and everything will commence as usual, just a week before or a week after originally planned. Life goes on, tire recalls commence, thunderstorms early in the morning lasting through Saturday afternoon, cyclists on the Northshore cycling to make a difference, the Saints still trying to seize the glory of Rome, the glory of home. The talk of losing civil liberties has faded and the loss of civil liberties has begun. They said, the big three news anchors, that the eleventh of September, two thousand one, was the day that America lost her innocence and I sadly wonder if we’ll ever get it back.

25 February 2007

Revelry in the City of Sin

there is an awakening in the dew-riddled hours of night, just before the light when the streets are quiet and we are all quite lit, never eager to quit until we've run out of swill and turn to other diversions, losing aversions to sanity, embracing the vanity of the night...the night again and we revel in sin when now and then begins again. once the encryption is done, the deceptions begun, the battle will be won, the will triumphed over and lost no matter the cost and we are tossed by our ears into the streets, our feet cut in the gutter in which we dwell - a personal hell from whence we rise from the lies and gain back that little part of self that we placed on a shelf

Me and Henry Miller

And now for something completely different. With Mardi Gras over, perhaps I will begin exercising my communications skills for more than drooling and blabbering like an idiot. The coming weeks will have me step up my search for a new job (and any potential employers, this is not an ordinary photo of me above) and getting the necessary paperwork done for graduate school. Any suggestions from the peanut gallery what I should do when I finish growing up? Or, do any of you Dingler-nauts want to hire me for my sheer brilliance and whisk me away? I must add it is sheer brilliance because it is that thin...

In Other's Words - Quotes from Henry Miller:

"Like every other big city in America New Orleans is full of starving or half-starved artists."

"I dream an empire."

"Do anything, be anything, say anything that comes into your head, because it's all cuckoo and nobody will know the difference."

"I stand still and go everywhere."

"Go West, young man! they used to say. Today we have to say: Shoot yourself, young man, there is no hope for you!"

"God, if I were a young man today, if I were faced with a world such as we have created, I would blow my brains out."

"The young men of America are growing desperate; they know they haven't a chance anymore."


"Good news! God is Love!"


17 February 2007

13 February 2007

Tuesday and It Rained

Tuesday and it rained. Just when you thought everything was getting back to normal, the phone call comes that a tornado just ripped apart part of the city that wasn't hit hard by Katrina. Then, the phone calls to friends to make sure everyone is acceptably okay. And silence. And the helicopters are back. You know it's bad when Blackhawk helicopters are circling in the sky along with the familiar sound of the Coast Guard helicopter. To me, there's nothing more distinct than the sound of a Blackhawk helicopter but I've long ago gotten over having to look up to identify the sound with the helicopter. Then, you spend your day helping with what you can while college girls from somewhere up north chat on their phone about how cool it is...all the while wanting to snatch the phone out of her hand and yell, "It wouldn't be so funny if it was your home, would it?" The gravity of the situation lost because it was a flashback to the devestation we had already lived through and she hadn't. But, I am lucky once again. Blessed once again. Me and mine are fine and good and well. thanks for calling

07 February 2007

Artwork / New Orleans

24 X 36 / Oil on Canvas / Cornicopia / Private Collection

10 X 14 / Oil on Canvas / Flowers for Claire / Private Collection

8 X 10 / Acrylic on Canvas / Small Table Bouquet / Private Collection


Feb 7th, Poland Avenue Wharf at Night