And this coming Thursday they're going to be in Austin for The SOUTH by SOUTHWEST Festival.

Good times.

There will be a lot of pictures happening.

We flew over the city. Keith showed me what it felt like to stall. I secretly wanted to scream out: "DO IT AGAIN!" But I kept all that to a minimum. Then Keith let me fly, and we both agreed that was way better than taking pictures. Not even kidding.

We're gonna do this again. So, if you want to get in on this, let me know. But I think there's probably going to be a 4-person max.

Technical aspects of shooting from a plane: 1) The propellor shot was at 1/8000, as high as I could go. 2) I taped my camera into my hand but not the lens. Next time I will tape the lens.

Yes, it's necessary. Trust me.

P.S. The second-to-last picture is of my house.  I live in the first one on the right as you drive into the turning circle.

As a photographer, it's forcing me to change my normal approach, helping deepen and expand the fundamentals of my craft. And as a person, it's a pure pleasure to talk and hear the stories of so many seasoned individuals. Some are straight from the silver-screen, larger than life characters, while others are as common and unassuming as I am.

For the past few weeks I had been meaning to talk to Nick--the guy with the hair. This week I had the chance. He tells me it's not uncommon for him to have people follow him for a few blocks only to catch up and ask for his autograph. Tom Petty, usually. Coyly, he gives in. Nick, whose given name is Norman but chose his father's name instead, came back to New Orleans 90 days after Katrina hit to help rebuild the city. And rebuild he did as both a commercial and mural painter. The next time you're in the Mascarade bar in Harah's casino downtown, check out the ceiling. Nick did that. Just one of the many places in the city he's painted.

John called after me while I was taking a picture to inquire if I was with the newspaper. I told him I was not but asked if I could take his picture. Seconds later he had to go, so we didn't have any time to talk. The Oz is run pretty tightly, and they only serve food for a short while; I didn't want to hold him.

After the outside food time came to a close Christopher caught my eye on his way out. He asked me if he I could help him.

That's kind of a scary open-ended question, but I agreed. He explained that he had been cited by NOPD for begging (when he wasn't) on the 1700 block of MLK drive (where he wasn't). One of the disadvantages to having no home is that you have nowhere to put your stuff. This means that you always have to carry it with you. The officer spotted the sign in his bag and proceded to stop him.

He told me he'd been through this before and public attorneys always make him plead guilty, and he's far from being able to afford anyone else. It was at this that he asked my advice: what should I do?

I did my best to hide the awkward combination of bewilderment and ignorance that overtook my face. Of all the people in the world, someone is asking me legal advice. I thought for a moment of all the ways I couldn't help him, as he stood their earnestly waiting for my reply.

Then, truly, I gave him the only thing I had.

The Truth.

We talked about how big God is, and the power of prayer. God created us to have a relationship with Him, so it's no wonder prayer works. I couldn't give him legal advice, help him afford an attorney, or even put him in touch with one who does pro bono work. But it didn't really matter because these were all human solutions. It's God who has the authority Christopher needed.

His court date is today, Friday. As you go to your job, take a lunch break, check my blog on company time, or put gas in your car, remember to pray for Christopher.

At this point the outside had moved inside, and Christopher had left. I snuck in the back door where everyone was eating to see if there was someone else I could meet. As I was trying to stay out of the way of the omnipresent food line, I overheard James in the midst of a story.

I shouldn't say 'story.' I tell stories--James, on the other hand, delivers an experience. When he tells you about a boat, you move with the waves and feel the cold mist on your face. It's like that. And it was like that while I stood there.

Humorously, I almost forgot to take his picture. And when I did, I gave him the I'm-a-photographer while motioning to my camera, to which he smiled: Well, I didn't think it was an earring!

James.

Right now he's working at the Oz and hopes to become the night manager. After that it's California. He's had enough hurricanes. And earthquakes? These don't bother James; as long as they don't turn into hurricanes.

Nick:

John:

Christopher:

James:

If I hadn't seen it so many times before, it would probably be surreal.

On a technical note, I used a polarizer filter while shooting here.  In short, when shooting at an angle perpendicular to the Sun, it creates richer skies and adds more contrast to the darker areas.  The more I can do in-camera, the happier a photographer I am.

As a caveat, polarizers can take away up to one and a half stops, so don't use them in low light.

If you're not familiar, Terrytown is technically only a large neighborhood in Gretna; although it has grown to feel like it's own city. Fifty years ago, I remember, it was only a few street big, and now look at it.  It's hosting it's own festival--and with a great turn out, too.

The Top Cats played.  Robert saw my camera and caught my eye and introduced me on stage as the Times-Picayune.

I didn't feel the time was right to correct him.

The first in my series is Greg from Mojo Coffee House, located on the corner of Magazine and Race.  It's a great little coffee shop that we used for Keith to change clothes in (that is, the restroom part of it...) when we were doing his shoot a couple weeks back.  It was one of those things where I felt obligated to buy something, so I got Keith a choc au lait.  It was good.  he said.

Anyway, as I was standing there talking to Greg, the idea hit me:  I love drinking coffee, and taking portraits, and drinking coffee. This would make a fun project. What isn't great about this.

Lastly, I have full intentions of hitting up all the coffee shops that I like, and when that's done, randomly walking the streets to find more.  But if YOU have a coffee shop you like (p.s., no Starbucks.  I..just...can't...doit.  sorry, I tried. fail), hit me up with an address, and I'll put them on here.  I love referrals the most, so let me know what you've got!

Greg / Mojo:

Greg in action.  A beast.

How did they know.

And I got to meet Lea (the cool girl with the fire-whip), who, when I asked to take her portrait, promptly replied with what's-your-name-and-do-I-get-a-copy.

It was: Joe and yes.

...

Fire.

As a result, I'm taking far fewer pictures, which brings with it a kind of ethereal feeling.  And unexpected.  Instead what happens is I get to spend more time getting to know people like Clinton and Ricky (who was doing that face on purpose).  Clinton is from Yazoo County in Mississippi.

You might remember this from My Cousin Vinny.  I did.

But I didn't mention that.

P.S. I'll be travelling with them to Austin in a couple weeks to shoot them playing the South by Southwest Festival!

It was a full evening, but at it's heart, it offered parents the opportunity to see their child accepting his award on stage and in front of everyone.  A great deploy of positive encouragement!

And Deshaad, always willing to oblige, posed for a picture.  Go figure.