Blur

The Universal view melts things into a blur.
—-Emile Cioran

You must have a colorful fork.

You must have a colorful fork.

New Orleans, French Quarter

I enjoy sitting at a little sidewalk table, sipping something – maybe my notebook is out – watching the world going by. If you move too much, you miss everything. Stay still, and it will come to you… sort of like hunting from a blind. It may not seem so exciting, but it’s how to bag the big game.

Having a camera does ruin things a bit. I don’t like looking at the world through a viewfinder. I don’t like closing my mind so I can think of angles, exposures, ISO.  But if I don’t make that sacrifice I can’t share it all with you, can I… so enjoy what you can… viddy well, my little droogies, viddy well.

Of course, another option is to set the camera on the table and simply reach out, now and then, and tap the shutter.

Then and Now, Lee on Halloween

My youngest son, Lee, on Halloween, then, Mesquite, Texas

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Now, Halloween, French Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana

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Washboard on Decatur Street

French Quarter, New Orleans

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washboard

The Rise of the Robots

French Quarter, New Orleans, Halloween

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Vintage Bicycle on Magazine Street

Magazine Street, New Orleans

Magazine Street, New Orleans

Perfect urban bicycling… Mixte frame, rear rack, front basket, fenders, upright bars, warning bell, kickstand, chainguard,  leather pants, red shoes.

Getting the Shot

Cottonwood Art Festival, Richardson, Texas

If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite.

—-William Blake

Halloween is Gone

Garden District, New Orleans

Garden District, New Orleans

 

More fundamentally, it is a dream that does not die with the onset of manhood: the dream is to play endlessly, past the time when you are called home for dinner, past the time of doing chores, past the time when your body betrays you past time itself.

—-John Thorn

 

 

Beater Bike in the French Quarter

Nothing is old… it is vintage. And if it is vintage… it is cool. It’s not rust… it’s a patina.

All bicycles weigh fifty pounds. A thirty-pound bicycle needs a twenty-pound lock. A forty-pound bicycle needs a ten-pound lock. A fifty-pound bicycle doesn’t need a lock. ~Author Unknown

Bicycle, French Quarter, New Orleans

Bicycle, French Quarter, New Orleans

After your first day of cycling, one dream is inevitable. A memory of motion lingers in the muscles of your legs, and round and round they seem to go. You ride through Dreamland on wonderful dream bicycles that change and grow.
—-H.G. Wells, The Wheels of Chance