Yesterdays, New Orleans December 2007 — Collage by kenne
New Orleans days
Our favorite getaway
Living in Houston.
— kenne
Archive for the ‘New Orleans’ Tag
Yesterdays Leave a comment
Three Doors Leave a comment
Tucson, San Antonio, and New Orleans — Photo-Artistry by kenne
"And hear the sounds he knew of yore, Old shufflings on the sanded floor, Old knuckles tapping at the door? "Yet still before him as he flies One pallid form shall ever rise, And, bodying forth in glassy eyes "The vision of a vanished good, Low peering through the tangled wood, Shall freeze the current of his blood."
-- from The Three Voices by lewis Carroll
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Rainy Night In New Orleans Leave a comment
Rainy Night In New Orleans (12/26/07) — Image by kenne
“In a consumer society there are inevitably two kinds of slaves:
the prisoners of addiction and the prisoners of envy.”
— Ivan Illich
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Decatur Street 8 comments
In December of 2007 I took this picture of a building on Decatur Street in New Orleans.
Over the years I have created several photo-art pieces from the original image. Here are just a few.
— kenne
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Christmas Past: Holidays In New Orleans 2 comments
Royale Street in New Orleans (December 2014) — Image by kenne
For years, after celebrating Christmas with family and friends,
Joy and I would go to one of our favorite ‘getaways,’ New Orleans.
Big Easy dreaming
Strolling through the French Quarter
Existential being.
— kenne
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A New Orleans Moment Leave a comment
A New Orleans Moment (12/27/14) — Image by kenne
“There are a lot of places I like, but I like New Orleans better.”
— Bob Dylan
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Corner Store Window Display Leave a comment
New Orleans Corner Store Window Display (October 6, 2001) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
The Moon
Wrapped in her shaw
she turns the knob,
says she’ll be back in five minutes–
and whether she means a toe
for a moment, or fifteen days,
I know she’s good for it–
if only all others
were the same–
if I could hitch a ride
and be back in good time,
I know I’d find
Neptune again–
and roll an eye
at Venus along the way–
she’s always late.
But the Moon–five minutes.
— Abi Mott
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Toulouse & Royale 1 comment
New Orleans Street Band at Toulouse & Royale (03/10/04) — Photos by kenne
Springtime in the
French Quarter
Royale lined with
shops and galleries
closed to vehicles,
opened to walkers
bring on the music.
— kenne
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The Poet Is Sighing 1 comment
A Jackson Square Morning — Photo-Artistry by kenne
The fog begins to lift
cobblestones still wet
from a passing shower —
the poet is sighing.
Cathedral bells ring
pigeons flying off
leaving their home —
the poet is sighing.
I can lose myself
in the French Quarter
in its endless embrace —
the poet is sighing.
Deep shadows in
alleys behind iron gates
guarding tropical courtyards —
the poet is sighing.
A lone musician
plays a jazz tune
not seen, but heard —
the poet is sighing.
Artists make their way
down to the square where
they hang their painting —
the poet is signing.
Morning life in the square
repeats again and again
the movement of generations —
the poet is signing.
A child of the mist
catches my attention
in my camera’s eye —
the poet is signing.
We bookmark each moment
looking at you again,
Renaissance and me —
the poet is signing.
— kenne
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New Orleans Art (12/26/07) 1 comment
Kenne & Joy In New Orleans (12/26/07) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Decatur Street, New Orleans (12/26/07) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Heart Within A Heart
Ther is a heart within your heart
A place go when all the trouble starts
When your world spins upside down and falls apart
There is a heart within your heart
There is a soul within your soul
A secret room only angels know
Come on baby, leave your fear, rise up and go
To the soul within the soul
— Tom Russell
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Foggy Morning On The Square Leave a comment
Foggy Morning On The Square (Jackson Square) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Andrew Jackson square,
Originally Place d’Armes,
Where artists gather.
— kenne
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A Teacher’s Teacher: Ellis Marsalis, RIP 3 comments
A Teacher’s Teacher: Ellis Marsalis (November 14, 1934, April 1, 2020) Image Source: Chicago Tribune
All of us reach an age when it seems like every day someone of our generation dies, even more now with the COVID-19 pandemic. Sadly, on April 1, a giant in education and jazz became one of the numbers in the current pandemic.
In the 1980s, Ellis Marsalis, with his sons, became the fresh new face to a resurgence of jazz in the last decades of the 20th century. “My dad was a giant of a musician and teacher, but an even greater father,” Branford Marsalis said in a statement. “He poured everything he had into making us the best of what we could be.”
Ellis Marsalis had a light and graceful touch at the piano, allowing his enter fellings to pour out like a gentle flowing mountain stream. He had held a weekly gig for decades at Snug Harbor, one of New Orleans’s premier jazz clubs, before giving it up in December.
The New Times critic, wrote: “Sticking mainly to the middle register of the keyboard, the pianist offered richly harmonized arrangements in which fancy keyboard work was kept to a minimum and studious melodic invention, rather than pronounced bass patterns, determined the structures and tempos.”
One of my favorite Cole Porter songs done superbly by Ellis and his son Branford.
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Foggy Morning In New Orleans 2 comments
Foggy Morning In Jackson Square — Photo-Artistry by kenne
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New Orleans Gallery Window Leave a comment
New Orleans Gallery Window — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“The whole content of my being shrieks in contradiction against itself,”
a Kierkegaard line I found in brother Tom’s notes, dated 6/29/93
— kenne
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Foggy Morning In New Orleans 3 comments
Foggy Morning In New Orleans (December 2014) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Beauty in the Rain
If you fancy that you have an eye for beauty,
test it on a rainy day…
A cold and foggy day that wears no make-up.
Test it in the shades of gray
that consume the sun and rob the flowers of their colors,
leaving them forlorn in dingy places
like tired and aging ballerinas in faded dancing clothes;
huddling in the drafty wings of empty opera houses.
Gaze across the rooftops and the chimneys,
painted like Utrillo’s Paris
On the canvas of the smoke and fog
of a dying afternoon in winter.
It takes no eye for beauty
to find it on a lovely day.
It thrusts itself upon you
in the sunshine and the warm.
But it hides; becomes aloof, elusive
in the cold and in the rain.
— Jim Metcalf
Becoming is Superior to Being 