From Horror to Beauty in a few short miles

That is the terrible dialectic which defines this wonderful city these days. Today was a lovely and fascinating day filled with a few notable surprises and high points. I finished my one-on-one conferences with students at UNO around 4:30. The students seemed to genuinely apppreciate what I had to offer them and my efforts to fill them with enthusiasm for their own work and creative potential seemed to be as successful as I had hoped. I met so many wonderful and dedicated people -- working through such tough circumstances -- I can hardly express my gratitude for having had the opportunity. Most of the folks went out of their way to thank me profusely, and all I could do was thank them right back.

Desperately needing a respite from the sound of my own voice and the company of others, having spent the previous 48 hours flapping my jaws non-stop, I changed clothes back at my hosts' apartment and walked down to the Quarter for a nice, restful private meal at NOLA, one of Emeril Lagasse's New Orleans restaurants. Walked along the Mississippi for a while and took a few snapshots. On my way into the Quarter I turned a corner and ran straight into a Krewe's parade, a small, non-float Mardi Gras Krewe called the Druids, dressed in flowing red robes and wizard caps, led by a small brass band escorting their King Druid and his Queen on a horse-drawn coach. I was delighted to have been able to see even this small slice of Mardi Gras tradition and followed the Krewe into Bourbon Street and a bar, where the band took the stage and the king and his court drank heartily.





Found my way to NOLA after that and had an absolutely wonderful dinner of rich, roux-based seafood gumbo, cornbread, and shrimp sauteed in a barbecue-sauce-spiked buttter sauce, plated on a bed of smoked cheddar stoneground grits, green onions and chunks of applewood-smoked bacon. Absolutely delicious, and affordable to boot. Thus fortified, I contacted a documentary filmmaker whom AFI has made some efforts to assist in his attempt to complete a compelling and important documentary on the Mardi Gras Indians. We met for coffee and King Cake at a small and lovely coffee shop and talked about his efforts to get his film funded. I'll report more fully on his efforts in a later posting.

Then it was back here -- to post this message, and pack. I have the morning free tomorrow, which I intend to fill with early coffee, beignets and reading, followed by a hearty brunch, the acquisiton of a muffuletta sanwich for the flight home, and then it's a visit to tour a new, high end UNO-funded production facility designed to lure more film production to the area. Then it will be goodbye for now to beautiful, tragic, wonderful New Orleans until who knows when. Once I'm home I will reflect a little more fully on my trip. It has left an indelible impression on me and has been unforettable in many ways.
Last night's festivities involved Mike (below left) and Jeff (below right, my guide), both grad students at UNO, and a few hurricanes at Pat O'Briens, home of that noble cocktail and the flaming coutyard fountain above.On my way up Decatur I noticed the St. Louis Cathedral was shrouded in this eerie, glowing mist. About 15 minutes of diddling around with exposure and timing settings on the digital camera produced excellent results; these low-res versions do not do justice to the full-res photos.