nawlins

bead whore

high water mark in a church

17th street

folded arches

17th street breach

interior

a mud encrusted couch

car and clothes

history revealed

new orleans used to proudly measure the success of mardi gras by the amount of trash culled from the streets. more pounds meant more revelers which meant more money. this year would measure up as the most successful mardi gras ever if it weren't for the fact that most of the trash in the street is an unholy mix of house parts, wrecked auomobiles, upturned boats, soaked stuffed toys, rusted appliances, bent street signs, uprooted trees, downed power lines, twisted roofs all glued together by a filthy endless and monotonous texture of disaster.

yesterday, one of my friends here, gloria powers, took me, with several others, on a disaster tour, intent that all who visit should witness the near total destruction of an american city and the condition it is in six months after the hurricane. the destruction is spectacular and fascinating. the inappropriate juxtopositions of objects is a continual visual feast. but, after driving for hours through neighborhood after neighborhood of water soaked, wind damaged and uninhabitable houses my curiousity turned to melancholy with the weight of so many people's lives upturned and the magnitude of the devastation.

nonetheless, mardi gras is on. the parades are rolling, beads are flying and while there aren't a lot of tourists here this year, the spirit of healing is in the air amongst the natives. the crowds on the parade routes, made up mostly of families, are as appreciative as they are celebratory. i hear less "happy mardi gras" than "thank you, thank you." people are simply happy that anyone has showed up. the parade floats have been reworked to address the hurricaine, the aftermath, and to lambast officials and their shortcomings. the people here have stories to tell and the most important contribution i've been able to make here is to simply listen and acknowledge their experience.