New Orleans In The Rain — Grunge Art by kenne
Archive for the ‘New Orleans’ Tag
New Orleans In The Rain 3 comments
Couleur Me Royale 3 comments
“Couleur Me Royale” (Joy listening to musicians on Rue Royale, New Orleans) — Image by kenne
“If you like the sound,
please stick around.
If you gotta split,
please leave a bit.”
Share this:
Pirate Alley 1 comment
Pirate Alley, Jackson Square, New Orleans (December 28, 2014)
— Photo-Artistry by kenne
Clouds hide the morning sun
cobblestones still wet
from a passing shower —
the poet is sighing.
The cathedral bells ring
pigeons flying off
leaving their home —
the poet is sighing.
I can lose myself
in the French Quarter
in an endless embrace —
the poet is sighing.
The deep darkness
of alleys behind iron gates
guarding tropical courtyards —
the poet is sighing.
There goes a jazz tune
from a lone musician
not seen, but heard —
the poet is sighing.
We make our way
down to the square where
artists 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
Share this:
Foggy Morning In Jackson Square Leave a comment
Foggy Morning In Jackson Square, New Orleans — Image by kenne
It is a damn poor mind indeed which can’t think of at least two ways to spell any word.
######
Any man worth his salt
will stick up for what he believes right,
but it takes a slightly better man
to acknowledge instantly and
without reservation that he is in error.
— Andrew Jackson
Share this:
Keep’n The Blues Alive Leave a comment
Keep’n The Blues Alive — Images by kenne
New Orleans Blues Man, Bryan Lee
Share this:
Fat Tuesday 3 comments
Street Music In The French Quarter — Computer Art by kenne
Street celebrating
Party all day through the night
Fat Tuesday closure.
— kenne
Share this:
Doors are for Opening Leave a comment
Doors are for Opening (A Door In The French Quarter) — Photo on Canvas by kenne
My serious apprehension of being
Is freed by acts of becoming —
Through the task of opening doors,
Where I learn from the past,
Laugh at today’s mistakes, and
Dream about tomorrow.
— kenne
Share this:
New Orleans, Jackson Square 1 comment
(CLICK ON ANY OF THE TILED IMAGES TO SEE LARGER VIEW IN A SLIDE SHOW FORMAT.)
Jackson Square, New Orleans (December 28, 2015) — Image by kenne
After hours joints have closed
The music has faded away,
Even the horn player
In front of the cathedral.
A new world takes over,
The night people lost in the fog
As if hiding from the light
And the people of the dawn.
In Jackson Square, the show goes on
With the new day, a new act
Enters from stage left and right,
Carrying their daily wares.
This ritual, old as the city,
Played out as people walk by,
Only briefly noticing a passing soul,
Neither greeting the other.
Protected by the levee
On the edge of the big muddy
Visitors a wait the man with the key
To open the Place d’Armes gates.
Entering the historical Jackson park
Gazing on “Old Hickory,”
Leading the 1815 charge
In the Battle of New Orleans.
For many morning walkers
Passing through the square,
Is only a route to Café Dumonde
For chicory coffee and beignets.
— kenne
Share this:
Tomorrow’s Voodoo Soul Leave a comment
New Orleans Street Corner — Computer Art by kenne
Morning near Jackson square
A misty fog is lifting
Leaving behind night sins
Dripping on centuries
Of human waste
Mixing with spirits —
Tomorrow’s voodoo soul.
— kenne
Share this:
Some Moments May Not Be Worth Capturing! 4 comments
How much longer before we will be there?
I’m not having fun! I’m tired! I’m hunger! Let’s stop now!
This is not where I wanted to eat! I don’t like the food!
I will disrupt others trying to eat. Time for a selfie.
“Hear my children the instruction of a father,
and give attention to know understanding.”
– Proverbs 4:1
Share this:
Bourbon Street Before The New Year’s Crowd 1 comment
(CLICK ON ANY IMAGE TO SEE LARGER VIEW IN A SLIDESHOW FORMAT.)
James & Jill
Getting Ready for the Night Scene
Dancing to the beat.
Hello cutie!
I’m drawing a crowed!
An Old-Timer On The Street
I’ve been framed.
Bourbon Street Before The New Year’s Crowd — Image by kenne
New Orleans
Dancing
underneath city lights,
jazz bands
reverberating, breathing in
voodoo shop
musk.
Soul
pulsates beneath
cobblestone,
wide eyes
peering up at
beaded balconies on
Frenchman Street.
Freedom is
coffee and baguettes from
Cafe Du Monde at
midnight,
surrounded by strangers.
Find me under strings of
flickering bulbs,
trading trails with
travelers.
Candlelit doorways illuminate the drifters, the curious, the backpackers,the Kerouacs,
the way to the gypsies past
Bourbon.
But not home.
— MC Hammered
Share this:
Zydeco Washboard (Frottoir) Player 5 comments
Zydeco Washboard (frottoir) Player, James (French Quarter, December 27, 2014) — Images by kenne
Boudreaux had a flat tire,
pulled off on the side of the road,
and proceeded to put a bouquet of flowers
in front of the car and one behind it.
Then he got back in the car to wait.
A passerby studied the scene as he drove by,
and was so curious he turned around and went back.
He asked the fellow what the problem was.
The man replied, “I got a flat tahr.”
The passerby asked, “But what’s with the flowers?”
The man responded,
“When you break down they tell you to put flares in the front and flares in the back.
I never did understand it neither.”
Share this:
Shoot Em Up, Texan 5 comments
Shoot em Up, Texan! (French Quarter, December 27, 2014) — Image by kenne
It is scientifically proven that the sight of red makes you hungrier than any other color. For me, the sight of orange makes me want to drink more than any other color — and run in the other direction.
kenne
Share this:
Coltrane — “A Love Supreme” 2 comments
“Desert Coltrane” — Image by Joy
Some years ago on one of our trips to New Orleans, Joy and I were walking in the French Quarter and decided to go in a resale store. That’s when I saw the John Coltrane t-shirt I’m wearing in above photo by Joy. The t-shirt has faded over the years, but I still wear it often to live music events, also just when I feel like it. Okay, so I set it up for this posting, which I had planned on in the celebration of the 50th anniversary of Coltrane’s, “A Love Supreme.”
In my teen years and early twenties I often would go to sleep listening to jazz on late-night Chicago radio. I still listen to a lot of radio, especially NPR where you can still find good jazz music. About ten days ago, I listened to and NPR story, 50 Years Of John Coltrane’s ‘A Love Supreme’. (A Love Supreme was recorded December 9, 1964.)
“I call it a sacred day for music fans, not just jazz fans. For people across musical boundaries and cultures — for Carlos Santana, Bono, Joni Mitchell, Steve Reich, Bootsy Collins, Gil Scott-Heron — hearing A Love Supreme was a revelation.” — Arun Rath
Many generations have and will continue to be influenced by the music of John Coltrane. If you let your soul listen you can hear his bluesy sound in the words and music of poets, singer-song writers and musicians:
Flirt with me don’t keep hurtin’ me
Don’t cause me pain
Be my lover don’t play no game
Just play me John Coltrane
— from Righteously by Lucinda Williams
#####
So, catch the blues train,
ride the drum beat’s edge,
see tomorrow’s vision,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
Locomotion,
a blues riff ,
Coltrane changes,
somewhere,
somewhere around the bend.
— from somewhere around the bend by kenne
“People had channeled emotions into music before. But no one had ever played the blues like this.
It’s the same message we get from the blues: Even in struggle and suffering, we sing, because life is a blessing. As much as Coltrane made his saxophone cry — for his suffering, and the world’s — in A Love Supreme he’s telling us that the most important voice to raise is one of gratitude to the creator for the gift of life.” — Arun Rath
Share this:
Ode To My Store Window Goddess Leave a comment
New Orleans Store Window, October 6, 2001 — Image by kenne
Ode To My Store Window Goddess
It was love at first sight,
Never just a mannequin
In a store window —
She inspired visions
Of the Greek goddess,
Aphrodite
Standing there
Where silence reigns —
In her silence
I was touched
By her beauty.
I could feel
Her love,
Capturing all
Eden’s lust
From my heart —
Now imprisoned
In my store window
goddess.
. . . she speaks to me in my solitude.
— kenne
