Preservation Jazz Hall is a place where history has piled up and I think photography is a kind of a pile of history, too. Everyone has their own version of a place so each history may seem a little different but if you put them all in the pile, it blends into itself and comes down to us of a piece.
Someday soon, Opera Boy and I are going to travel to New Orleans for a visit. It’s been 40 some-odd years since I lived in the French Quarter but parts of it rush up behind my eyes with such clarity that it is hard to ignore. When he decided that it was our next destination, I got the scanner out and pulled some of my favorite images of the Quarter from the early ’70’s.
This one was from a hot October night at Preservation Hall… it was crammed with steamy people and nobody cared because the music was so fine!
Of course there will be a camera in my hand when we go… hoping against hope that it hasn’t become it’s own little theme park… hoping to catch a glimpse of my younger self on the avenue or looking out a window. Someday can’t come soon enough. ;0)
I added this and a handful of others to my website… now that I have a Personal Work section, even I get to visit them more often. Maybe I’ll see you there? ;0)
… at least that’s what they tell me. Well, I have to say that this month has been completely outta control so the blog has been wishful thinking at best.
I made the mistake of cleaning my windows on one of the early sunny days… everything was fine until I stuck my head out of the skylight and got a good look at my south roof. After a minor panic attack, we started the process of getting bids to replace the roof. This one has been on since 1981 so, yes, it was time but I thought we might be able to wait until this summer. Not so much. Now we have to wait for the lovely spring weather to clear so the guy we hired can come do the work.
Of course, in anything like house repair, one project always leads to another. ;0)
Last Saturday Opera Boy smiled as he handed me an electric drill and a flat bar… I spent the next few hours prying the first part of the old front porch off of my house. Apparently, we have decided to replace it. And then comes the paint. Sigh.
Meanwhile, March 13th was the 10 year mark for my Mom’s death. I had planned to run a beautiful little photo essay about her but the further I got into the process of scanning old photos, I realized I have a lot to say. Dad’s 20 year mark comes in May so I am thinking I might wait until I can do them both some justice.
This one is from their wedding in July, 1950… Grace H. Benson married Allan B. Bosworth… he was just out of the Navy and she was still in. They look happy to me and so very young.