New Orleans pictures, part the fourth

Here's the much briefer and segmented version of what I wanted to do earlier: post some of the New Orleans pictures with context. I'll do separate entries for these, to break it up a bit.


A former stoplight in the Marigny. As of April, a lot of stoplights were still down, turning those intersections into four-way stops, which messed with traffic something fierce.


They are, of course, making progress on that account, though.

And, on the other hand, some are operable, just a bit cock-eyed:


And then there are other signs that are just a bit off as well:

the forest for the trees

This morning, driving in to work, I noticed one of the other things I appreciate about this area of Pennsylvania. While I was driving, the odd fir trees on either side of the road turned into oaks, and I realized that I really enjoy the variability of the landscape.

There's this one type of fir that you can see from the bypass out to Bellefonte, that I swear has always struck me at first, from afar, to look like a grove of palm trees. They're amazingly tall, and bend slightly from the prevailing wind, but only have needles and branches at the very tippy-top. When I was dating the former Forestry major, I should've asked about them--but then again, I might not have remembered the answer. I've forgotten a lot of what I learned then, and I wish I'd thought to write it down. Then again, I knew that relationship would end (the person in question was moving to Philly only a few short months--in reality, more like six, but it felt short--after we started dating) so I was probably busy enjoying the presence rather than planning for the absence. In any case.

Yesterday I had the morning presentation. It went well enough--one rather insistent questioner who asked some rather off-the-wall questions, but other than that and one tangent that caused, well enough. On the way back to the office after yoga yesterday, I ran into one of the families that had been in the presentation: a family I remembered not only because the mother had a foot injury that caused her to move around in a boot, but because it was one of those odd situations we run into here surprisingly often--what we call the change-of-assignment student. The student had started at Penn State York and was soon to be switching to Penn State University Park as planned, but wanted to get a tour first. He and his family had come in late to the information session (it didn't really apply to them anyway), and the mother had asked me a few questions about housing afterwards.

When I realized they were somewhat lost, I offered to walk them back to Shields, which was where I was headed anyway. I fell into step with the student and chatted with him--about getting used to a large campus, about housing, about York, and about the weather and environment here at UP. He mentioned that the landscape on the drive up was "hard to resist," and I had to agree with him there.

He asked about winter--York's almost on the Maryland border, and gets a really minor amount of snowfall--and I told him how we get one or two bad snowfalls a year, but typically that's all. The rest of the winter's just minor flurries and subsequent slush. But then I told him about the beautiful storms--the way you can see rain falling on the mountains but not touching the valley, and the way you can watch a thunderstorm crest Mount Nittany, the dark clouds building above it before it tumbles down the other side. I don't think he got the beauty in it. But I think he will, eventually.

It was when he asked my major that I realized he didn't recognize me from the presentation. I laughed, said I had changed clothes, given the workout, and that I was in disguise. I'm still amused and mostly enjoy these kinds of mistakes, and they happen often, despite that I feel the beginnings of age creeping into the edges of my eyes and in the crease between my eyebrows. But we're all our own worst critics, of course.

And now you see how the minor things--the incidentals--distract me from the grandeur and beauty of this place. Maybe I'll ask L. if he wants to go hiking this weekend. Then again, with my luck (after checking the forecast), we'll get caught in one of those beautiful rainstorms I was just raving about. 40-60% chance, depending on which day? Yeah, probably would. Then again, I don't mind a little damp every once in awhile, and I don't think L. does either. It's been a long time since I've been out to the Shingletown Gap trails. Maybe we'll try to hit it up anyway.

by way of update

I suppose I should do a proper catch-up post, too. On the quick end: the old friends in town were good, the con was good, the old friends that I got to see at the con are good, work is surprisingly good (if busy since I was out), and I'm pretty darn good myself. Better than good, actually, if busy. As per normal.

I got home from the con sore and tired, but went to yoga on Monday night as planned, and afterwards felt some ridiculous percentage better. At work on Tuesday, I had been invited to the Directors' Planning meeting. Kind of exciting in itself, but even more exciting was the charge I was given: to co-chair a small committee to care for essentially our entire public web presence. During the discussion, it sure sounded like that committee would shape our next redesign and future web projects, and man, do I look forward to that.

Now people are handing me suggestions right and left, often what they see on other sites and think is neat. I love it. But following the pack? Screw that. Lead or perish. Do or die. And all that rot. We've been given a license to create change, and I intend to use it.

We'll be over here, making great things happen. Hope you don't mind the jackhammering in the meantime.

extended warranties

I have to say that I'm very, very glad that I got the extended warranty on my car. Why? Because there's virtually nothing like driving home after a long day's work on a beautiful day with the music up and the windows and sunroof down. And I wouldn't be able to do that last bit if I hadn't sprung for the extended.

Last time I took my car in, complaining of--among other things--a stuck sunroof, they quoted me a $900 bill to fix it. I should've known, after my last car also had expensive sunroof problems (which I did not fix, by the by, rather just learning to deal with the occasional leak than close it up entirely) that the sunroof would be the first large-bill item. Thankfully when I bought the car, though I didn't have the sunroof in mind, I made the foolish decision to go all the way with the warranty.

And it was worth every penny, if only for tonight.

Now I'm sitting here typing this while the scent of the andouille sausages I just made myself fills the air, and I managed to do them just right for me--enough so they split and go just a little crispy--and there's a kind of beauty. Strange, sure, but mine.

And to think that if I hadn't visited New Orleans, I may never have discovered these.

the photo book

Quick note due to extreme busy-ness: the editors of Signs of Life were kind enough to expose some of their process. If this order holds, my shot is either in the first ten or last ten of the book.

Either way, I kind of find that a good sign. Hell, it's a good sign that it's in there at all.

Gotta run. Old friends are in town, and I leave for the con Thursday morning.

busy busy

Work's up at one of its two highest ramped-up points. Right now, we're in the middle of Spend a Summer Day's five day-long events. There was one last Wednesday, one yesterday, and there'll be one Monday, Wednesday, Friday of next week. They're exilarating but exhausting, usually. I'm going to be interested to see how I handle my usual sleep-deprived Monday under those circumstances.

Then right after this, virtually, will be my trip to Indiana to the convention that pulls together most of my friends from college. We'll have folks coming in from Seattle, New York, and Chicago, at the very least, this time around.

So, in brief: sorry I haven't been around more often, but it's for good reason. Doing well other than being busy-busy.

grasshoppers and hawks and more hawks, oh my!

I was planning an entry in my head on the way to work on Friday. It was going to be about the almost-translucent tiny grasshopper that was clinging to my window as I drove to work, and probably making it into a metaphor about hanging on as your schedule goes crazy. The grasshopper then decided, at one stoplight, to crawl to my roof. S/he did make it all the way to campus: I even took a picture upon arrival.



But as I walked into work, I got thoroughly distracted. People were looking up into one of the pine trees next to the sidewalk. I looked up, and there was a hawk--if not the same hawk as last time, then certainly the same variety. Since I still had my camera in hand, I started taking shots. The hawk decided to move pretty swiftly thereafter, gliding down to the ground, landing in the ground cover near the building, then hopping up to the railing leading down to one of the basement machine access doors. I took picture upon picture of hir there:



A co-worker watched me take them and started chatting with me as I was standing probably about 12 feet away. The hawk didn't budge, and seemed to pay us absolutely no mind. I moved in to about 9 feet, at a guess, and kept taking shots. S/he only ever looked at me once there:



Eventually, though, it did fly off, to a nearby athletics field, to perch on a goal there, a few shots after which I left it to go inside. Before that, though, I was stopped by one of the folks who works downstairs from me, who asked if I was using a digital camera and if he could be emailed copies of the pictures, which I did.

I was interrupted by another co-worker just before noon to tell me that the hawk was sitting on a branch right outside her window. I went and took a look, to find many in her suite huddled around her window watching it clean itself, mostly turned away from the window. We talked about it for a few minutes and I tried to take a few shots, but it was a horrendous light situation out of which I only got two good shots. It didn't help that s/he was turned away during most of my visit there. But again, it took no mind of us, even if it could hear us through the window, which I doubt.

The gentleman who I sent pictures to that morning replied to me that afternoon to share what he had seen on his lunch break: one hawk on the ground eating a fresh kill, and complaining at another who was trying to razz hir from the roof. Wish I'd seen that bit.

On the way back from yoga, I spotted hir again, this time in the tree right next to the back entrance of the building. I ran in and grabbed my camera again, this time getting a few more shots, some of hir grooming:



And a few more when s/he finally noticed me:



But you get the idea. It was a hawk-filled day.

Today, though, I'm in satisfied mode. Good gathering last night with folks, including early birthday gifts from the other J. Had a lap-cat for awhile--a gorgeous friendly calico who somebody will be taking away from us this weekend. Unfortunately, I also pretty well proved that I'm allergic to cats in the process. Love them, but they make me sneeze. Went home and showered so as not to get the allergens on my freshly-washed sheets. Went a little overkill on the shower, taking my time and thoroughly washing and treating my hair to a rinse and shaving and all kinds of nonsense, and came out smelling of vanilla mint and raspberry and a hint of cocoa. Slipped into bed, clean on clean.

Unfortunately didn't get to sleep in as long as I'd like: I woke up hungry. Got up and had some granola, did my usual Internet surfing, and will shortly be leaving for a minor road trip. To see a movie. Friends and I have decided to boycott the crappy theatres nearby, and unfortunately they're the only ones showing the Pirates sequel.

That being the case, I should probably go get ready to head out. Hopefully it'll be worth the trip--but even if not, usually the entertainment of the friends being enclosed in a small space for almost an hour each way is worth it. Ha.

memory and meaning

I passed a woman trying to lead a gaggle of kids on bikes on my way home for lunch today, and it brought to mind a near-ancient memory of a bike accident I had when riding on the back of my mother's bike when I was tiny: younger than five, at the very least.

We were on a country highway near the house we lived in at the time, and most of what I can remember involves gravel, and dust, and movement, and hurt.

From around the same time, I remember getting bitten by the across-the-street neighbor's dog, though that one mostly involves images of their front yard and running down their driveway.

I think I remember happier things, like playing with our German shepherd in the snow in front of the house, but that one I can't be sure wasn't ingrained in me from seeing the photo my mother took of it or not.

I'm pretty sure I remember a meal with my grandparents (mother's side) in attendance, at least, at the big dining room table, and my grandfather urging me to finish my meal so I could belong to the Clean Plate Club.

I remember parts of my fifth birthday very clearly, including one view of our patio from the sliding glass door, right before I ran in, fell, and split my head open on one of our wrought-iron chairs. Stitches on my birthday, no less.

But most of these have moments of crispness in between a lot of haze, and I sometimes wonder if everyone's memory works like that. Mine works much like a series of still images, like a photo album, and because of this, I think I know why my data is so important to me: my memories are tied up in it. My photos and writing work as ciphers: keys to open lock-boxes way back in my brain.

So I think it's through my writing and pictures that I remember best. Things that I don't write down or capture visually tend to fade, but the problem with that is that those things end up being subject to revision. The way I write it becomes more ingrained than the original memory, and thus better remembered. If I leave out a detail, it's more likely to be forgotten. But then again, if I don't re-read that bit of writing recording an event, it's subject to the same rules as a memory I haven't recorded, other than a little bit of reinforcement from having to put it into words to get it down in the first place.

Of course, there are things that aren't like that, and weren't recorded, but I still remember: these earliest memories are an example. I don't think I ever wrote about these, and other than the snow picture, none were photographed. These were only in oral history at best, and just in my head at worst. Though I do remember my mother jesting about my grandfather's "Clean Plate Club," so it's possible that I matched that up with an image from memory--I just find it really hard to be sure.

This realization starts to pull the rug out from under me if I ponder it too long: if what I remember isn't real, then what is? But then I also manage to input into the equation that it's always been like this, and it probably is for others, and they don't seem too bothered by it.

And in some ways, it works for me, since I do write, and I do take photographs extensively. And I can even--to some extent--preserve the memory of others this way.

In college, I took a course on oral history. During it, I did a project with my aunt, who lived in Denmark during World War II along with my dad and the rest of his immediate family. She was quite a bit older than he at the time, though, and remembered more from the time. I talked to her about the experience, then wrote it up for that class. This came up in conversation with my uncle a while back, who encouraged me to find that paper because he wanted a copy. I also want to read it again too, since she's gone now, and that written documentation may be all there is left of it (though I imagine she'd talked about it with others). But it's in an ancient laptop that's not entirely stable, and I haven't taken the time to try to dig it out of there yet. I should.

But it makes me realize how much of my life (and my recordings of others' lives) is tied up as data. And realize why computers dying on me fills me with such panic whenever it happens--because that's my memory. That's part of me. I could certainly live without it, but I don't want to lose more than I have to.

And I'm out of time here, but I have to say that examining all this really makes me want to go out and get another external hard drive, just in case my backup dies. It also reminds me that I should do some further backing up soon. This brain doesn't run on its own, you know.

Weather and office shenanigans

So I headed home for lunch today. My timing's impeccable: I started driving back just as the sky let loose. I had a hard rain accompaniment all the way to campus, when it let up to a gentle but steady sprinkle.

I had brought my umbrella into my office this morning, but hadn't taken it with me back to the car during lunch. And guess who brilliantly decided to wear a white shirt with her skirt this morning?

Hi: that would be me.

I even further appreciate the fact that the door leading to my office is right inside the stairwell now. Not that it was a big deal.

Though I don't think it's raining presently, I can see another wave coming: the darkness having just crested over the nearest mountain range that I can see from my office window. I'm still getting used to this view: I switched offices recently, to one office back in the suite. It's nice: tucked away, a little more quiet, better furnished, less of a bowling alley layout, but it is down a window compared to my last office, which I do miss. But I still do like it.

week in review, week in preview

A few quick notes this morning:

This is the part about a storm season that I love: when the oppressive heat and humidity is broken one morning, and though the clouds are low and drizzling over the mountains in the distance, the scudding clouds above you are broken by gaps filled with sunlight. When you can open a window and catch a breeze just tinged (but not heavily ridden) with the next shower.

When it's a temperature comfortable to humans. Well, me in specific.

Today's one of those rare days when I wear a skirt just because (though I'll admit that they're certainly cooler).

Got back from the last conference mid-week last week, which was in Hershey, where the hotel provides you with enough chocolate to drown a horse if you want it. Upon check-in and check-out, they hand you two chocolate bars. A basket full of chocolate was their answer to a housekeeping screw-up (they swiped my soap by accident). Rather than the hard candies that some conference locales provide next to the water in the back of the session rooms, they provided a selection of Hershey's chocolate. You get the idea. It was a refreshing change when on the last day, they served cheesecake for dessert: regular cheesecake, with strawberries, and no chocolate.

This week's already been a bit of a whirl, and only promises to get worse. Yesterday, a long-time Internet friend and virtual sister who I'd never met in person was in town, ostensibly to visit and tour the university, but also to spend time, which was extra nice.

Reached home to find a package and envelope of news clippings from my dad (got it, and it works!), which I was intending to call him about but didn't due to online drama having happened while I was out of touch Sunday night sometime after I went to work at the club. I called to give one person involved some moral support and catch up a bit, which ate up much of the night, it felt like.

Wednesday some of us are having a gathering that will eat up that night, and on Friday most of that group (including me) will be going to Pittsburgh for a concert, the details of which I still haven't heard, given that it's being organized by a gal one of my friends is seeing but she lives in Philadelphia (I've only met her once). Hopefully it'll work out, though. Another online friend saw the band in question in NYC recently, and gives the tour a firm two thumbs up. Hopefully we'll get a similar performance.

New Orleans pictures, part the third

Though I'm about to leave for another conference, I wanted to note this before I ran out the door.

One of my New Orleans pictures has been solicited for a book, Signs of Life, by a couple I've never met, through the beauty of easily-searched photos online (thank you, Flickr, and thank you, tagging). Here's that shot:



I took that when my host took me on a drive through St. Bernard parish. It was eye-opening. I have lots of shots where that came from, but I have to say it was an uneasy experience. Yes, I wanted to document it, yes, I wanted those shots both to help me remember and to show others, but at the same time, these are peoples' homes. And I was just a tourist.

As for the book, I'm still not really sure how I feel about it. Sure, it's flattering, and sure, I submitted the shot, but this certainly isn't as much about the shot as it is about the subject matter there. I just happened to catch it. And I think there are much better "Signs of Life" from the area, but this is what they chose--the signs people put out to signal how they're dealing. The signs that let everyone know that people were back--or that they'd abandoned the area. There were plenty of those, too. Most residents, those that stayed, met that abandonment with heavy disdain, though.

I don't have a conclusion here (and take that as an overarching statement), but I've got to run or I'll miss my carpool to Hershey, where in addition to the conference, I'll probably get to meet up with a few folks I know primarily online. One I've met before (in New Orleans, in fact), and the other I haven't. Both are fantastic gals, though. I'm just hoping our schedules work out.

con season

Yes, kids, it's con season once again. Conferences, conventions: looks like I'll be hitting up both again this year, but mostly the former. Already hit up the Penn State Admissions Conference, just today finished the Penn State Web Conference, and next week is PACAC (Pennsylvania Association for College Admissions Counseling). Needless to say (and not too much different than normal), I may be a bit scarce.

Today's conference was impressive. Excellent speakers: great ideas, well-presented. Frankly much better than yesterday's pre-conference sessions, but that may be more due to the format than anything else--a tired me and four-hour-long tutorials do not mix well.

During the conference, I talked a bit with colleagues from Student Aid, after which one offered to meet up and exchange notes on different sessions, and others offered to loan me a few books that I might want to pick up. Very nice of them. After the conference, I sat for a bit at Legends with the keynote speaker and some of the presenters and organizers (plus one that I'm not sure qualified as either), rather by accident. I'd only intended to sit at the bar and quiz one of the presenters briefly. Only after I settled in did I realize who else was sitting with him, but I certainly wasn't going to turn down an invite to join them when they shifted to a table, especially since I hadn't really found an opening to start asking questions at that point (nor did I, but that's another story). An exceptionally pleasant bit of hanging out ensued, especially considering that I knew absolutely none of them beforehand. The conversation bounced between a whole bunch of different subjects I enjoy: blogging and fiction writing, new web developments and how the University can use such, as well as some banter about semi-current events at Penn State and filling in the speaker on those bits he wasn't familiar with. Excellent stuff, and rather got me interested in getting more involved in that community. I'd forgotten how easy it is to talk to people that are interested in similar things both professionally and personally, but I suspect that has a lot to do with being overloaded and rather sequestered out in Admissions.

Here's to being not quite so much so anymore, with the arrival of the new writer.

New Orleans pictures, part the second

Yes, I know the sign's a little skewed in this view (had to do it to fit this layout). Click it to view it at a more normal size (and read the sign).



I believe I found this fierce creature in the Marigny. And probably had gotten on the nerves of my host by that point because I stopped so much without saying a word. Eventually I got the hang of saying "stopping for a sec," but early on, I'd just pause to take the shot.

New Orleans pictures, part the first

I've realized that I don't think I'll have the large chunk of time necessary to really tell this story the way I want to. Therefore, in order to at least show the pictures I promised, I'll just be dropping one in here every once in a while. Like this one:



Some things just go on as normal, like the wedding photos taking place on Jackson Square. I'm not sure if I saw unusual activity, though, given that it was Easter weekend while I was there.

quick week-in-review

I managed to screw up my spacebar this morning in trying to fix it, so forgive any mistakes, if you would.

Quick week-in-review:

Started the week with the Penn State Undergraduate Admissions spring conference. Got to see a couple of the campuses near Pittsburgh, which was good, since trying to explain them to students without ever having been there is otherwise a bit of a challenge. There was a session on Career Services there that sticks out in my memory: I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Career Services is relatively coordinated throughout our 20 undergraduate campuses, among other facts.

The night we were out there, our evening's entertainment was a trip to Dave & Busters at the Waterfront (think Chuck E. Cheese's for adults): I still have a blister from killing zombies with my grandboss. That is, we played an arcade game called House of the Dead 4 together. I also showed him Gauntlet, and he took a round with a Star Wars game that I watched. I still get a kick out of him, and I love the fact that afterward he went around to those we met up with saying, "you really owe us: we defended you from zombies back there."

Had a day's worth of tech training on Friday off-site, but an excellent conversation during lunch with the staff assistant I was there with, during which I found out a bunch of stuff that had occurred behind the scenes that I didn't really understand at the time, but now kind of have a grasp on. Office politics: I haven't really had time for it, or even chit-chat, since we lost the other writer. Thankfully, we should have her replacement on board within the next week.

I'm in the midst of moving between offices: my new one has fewer windows, but it's a prettier and quieter space, being less of a bowling alley layout (long and narrow) and farther away from where the student tour guides gather (I love them, but they're noisy every day that they're in--which is often every day, period).

Tonight I'm saturated with cigar smoke after a long stint in a room full of it, but I feel accomplished because I finished a full 28 inches of a new weave with a relatively new material--half-Persian in blackened stainless steel, a request from B., my host in New Orleans, who made me two bracelets while I was there, so I wanted to return the favor (and, for that matter, make some for myself). Now I just have to figure out what to do for the clasps. Normally I'd just use the same gauge wire that I used for the bracelet itself, but working in steel obviously isn't quite as easy. I'd take pictures of what I managed today, but I'm tired and my hands are pretty well shot. Even this typing kind of hurts, so I should probably quit pretty soon.

Also managed to see X-Men 3 today with a different combination of folks. Tomorrow's a picnic of some kind, and the usual Sunday djing gig, which promises to be a tad overwhelming. Not only is it a busy night, Monday being a holiday, but I think the guy I usually work with has either quit or been fired, and I'm not sure which, having heard from no one, but seen the schedule and noted that he's neither on this week or next. Not sure what's up with that. Guess I'll find out tomorrow night.

And yes, I know: NOLA pictures. I haven't forgotten. As soon as I can, but there's a bunch of stuff still in the way (including sending things I promised at least one person in particular from that trip, and the enormous 'net-aided mail swap I managed to rope myself into organizing having launched within the past week--I'm nuts, I know).

I tend to dive into way too many things at once. Have you noticed?

symbolism/MNO sidebar

Warning: contains graphic descriptions of blisters. Continue at your own risk.

I had my weekly yoga class today, and noted that the New Orleans blister^TM is in its final stages: completely separated from the new skin beneath, cracking, and dry. It's also amazingly thick: I was shocked. The pinprick I put in it while I was down there to drain it has developed into a decent-sized hole.

I suppose it's relevant to understand how big this blister was/is. It took up most of the ball of my left foot, running farther down the side than it did along my toes, and it went all the way up in between my big and second toe.

This was not the fault of my shoes, I might add. I brought the best shoes for walking that I have: my comfy kicking-around Børns and my Dansko clogs, which have better support (thus again demonstrating my preference for all things Danish--lucky they make such great shoes). It was the fault of me not walking enough at home, and ramping up to an incredible amount of on-my-feetness literally overnight. The last two days I was there, my feet had gotten used to it.

In any case, I had noticed that this blister had reached this stage a few days ago, and I took it as another sign that I was done processing and assimilating the experience and ready to share it.

But then, I'm like that, some of the time.

In those moments, I'm connective--I tend to find links between things that perhaps shouldn't be, and symbolism where there's only practicality.

Case in point: I came home one day to find three or four bees/yellowjackets/wasps/I-can't-tell-them-apart,so-whatever dead right outside my front door. One half of my brain immediately exclaimed "this must mean something," but moments later the other half of my brain thwapped the first and said sarcastically "it means they sprayed today, stupid."

You see my point.

So there you have me: demonstratably halved, one part that wants the world to be full of mysticism and symbolism, and the other that's supremely rational.

Which will win? Stay tuned to find out.

Pictoral

Also, while browsing Flickr, I found several great photo sets taken around Penn State. Linkage occurs here:

Flat Stanley's tour
A native's view
A photographer's viewpoint
A visitor, I think, during ArtsFest (though no ArtsFest shots are featured)

Missing New Orleans, part the second

A thought occurred to me the other day, when I was driving and caught a flash of blue out of the corner of my eye. I don't know if it's permanent, but I know that for awhile at least, I will never be able to associate that color of blue with anything other than FEMA tarps.

And it's not that they're everywhere, though there are a lot of them. They're clustered in the spots that were hardest hit, but when they're clustered like that, it's hard to miss them. And then you see them intermittently elsewhere, and it's like your brain gets used to that background noise. Now that I'm home, and that particular shade of blue is more rare, they stand out like a bellow in a library.

Missing New Orleans, part the first

I finished Do You Know What it Means to Miss New Orleans? yesterday during my lunch hour. Afterwards, I thought "now I'm ready."

And there's so much to say that I feel like I could write entries upon entries about it. There seems to be at least one entry for virtually every part of me: photographer, art-, architecture-, food- and music-lover, activist, humanist, cynic (yes, I know the latter two conflict), feminist, geek, people-watcher and general observer. Writer, of course, but that's rampant due to the whole bit about these entries being written now, isn't it?

But this will certainly take more than one entry is what I meant to point out here. Time constraints may keep them pretty short. We'll see how this goes.

New Orleans pre-thoughts

Going back through photos from the neighborhoods I explored in New Orleans, I'm still at a kind of loss.

I tend to try to lead an examined life, but when I try to examine this, when I try to wrap my head around it, something just stops.

And there's this stillness. Eye in the center of the storm. There's so much around it that I fear I can't take it all in, that I won't be able to digest it all.

But that may be the lesson, right there. Sometimes it's beyond you, and that's okay. And sometimes you just go on with life as usual, and that's okay too. It's necessary, even. To continue. For the cycle of seasons to begin again.

And they will. And New Orleans will get through this. It will. It has to, if only to spite the naysayers. And from what little I learned of some of the people down there, they're like that. They'll thumb their noses just for the sake of pride.

And I'd do it right with them if they'd let me.