Tuesday, September 27, 2011


One of the things that makes this city so interesting is the juxtaposition of old and new, decrepit and pristine. This view is a perfect example.

I'm standing on a balcony that sags at a 4% decline and is attached to a 180 year old building. In the distance are immaculate new skyscrapers. 

At any time during the day, we might catch a glimpse of a movie star passing by...

Maybe Kady should find a lesson in Angelina's calm acceptance of the French Quarter mule tours as exemplified in this image borrowed from (Read about Kady's mule hatred here)

... followed by an inebriated hobo. Next, rich old couples resembling Mr. and Mrs. Howell exit their Bentley's to be accosted by train-jumping gutter punks looking for scraps of food and money.

Our work day is no exception and offers countless, sometimes exhausting contradictions.

A couple weeks ago, I stumbled upon two of the most devastated homes I've encountered. I stopped my car and wandered around the buildings with a sort of reverence at the desolation and the fact that someone either did or didn't come home to this.

And I'm asking myself, how is a community supposed to move on from this? There are reminders everywhere as well as evidence of blatant governmental negligence and constant conspiracy-reinforcement.

And then I went back to the office.


  1. It's so hard not to cry when you see a house completely toppling over and imagine that the family that used to live there probably really wanted to come home, but couldn't.

    ...It's also hard not to cry at the beauty of interpretive dance.

    Great post!


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