Empty Auditorium at the New Orleans Museum of Art


I woke up early to prep for class but ended up just fretting around needlessly. I headed to campus for a couple of good classes, the kind where you feel like you’re really just having a good conversation. Office hours and some needless fretting-turned organization later, I was back on the bike, pedaling to Mid-City for the opening night of the Patois Human Rights Film Festival at the New Orleans Museum of Art. I took this picture of the auditorium before crowds came in. It just looks so bare and empty, but it has certainly hosted a whole bunch of different kinds of events. Tonight’s movies were good, especially Hot Coffee, a movie about tort “reform” that was so good it made me cry. An hour before I was across the hall looking at Renaissance paintings and wonder why I’d never heard of Saint Cosmos before and why we can’t remember that the ones who provide free medical care for the poor are SAINTS. In between I went to the bathroom but had to use the other one, because that one was only for the people at that private party, the one with Arnie Fielkow and those women with that hair and those signature necklaces. Yeah, there was a lot going on at the museum. And then I got to ride my bicycle home on empty streets in cooler air. Nice.

Kourtney Heart at the Ogden, From the Third Floor

Sometimes I worry that one day I’m going to get on my bike and the pleasure will be gone. And then there are days like this one: it was hot and thick out, so I packed my bag for the rest of the day and night, hooked in on the Surly, and went for a ride. I just love riding a bike. It was a sweaty day as I tooled around from a lunch date, an iced tea, the gym for its air conditioning, the museum, another coffee and a meeting, dinner, and finally home. I took this picture at the museum stop, for Ogden After Hours, Bounce Edition. Continue reading

New Orleans Jazz National Historical Park at Decatur and St. Louis

I have been spending my free time slowly working my way through Ken Burns’s documentary project on our national parks, and I’ve been feeling a ridiculously strong urge to go enjoy our natural heritage. Mostly I’m missing mountains, though. I grew up in mountains and there’s just no substitute. But I’m 638 miles from the Great Smoky Mountain National Park (yes, I’ve been doing a lot of googleymapping, wishing I were rich in time and money), and those don’t really count as mountains anyway–not when you know about the Owyhees, the Rockies, the Sierra Nevadas, the Tetons. Continue reading