Cause that's what friends do....

The past couple of days I have been working by myself over at the Pontalba building. My friend and employer Robert has been busy. Some of the guys at the building ask in the morning "Where's Robert? Out sick?" "No, he had a film shoot again today, he's playing a secret service agent in the new G.I. Joe film, or something..." Robert is an aspiring actor and takes on every part he can get for the experiance. Starting out doing background work over a year and a half ago, he has already accomplished more than most wanna be actors could in five years.

Robert threw himself into it 100% when he made up his mind that it was his goal. Acting classes from several renowned local acting coaches, speech courses, and every free moment dedicated to his passion. Even though his "day job" is doing very well with so much work that he has to hire on another painter, he's focused on a bigger goal. 

At the beginning of the year I was working on the illustrations for the Quarter Rat book "Bourbon Street and Beyond." (copies of which are still available at your finer strip joints on Bourbon Street.) About half way through the project I suddenly found myself with out a place to live or work on the book.

Robert, without hesitation took me into his already crowded apartment and said "Finish that book." He put a roof over my head, fed me, encouraged me and gave me employment when his business started to get traction. That's what friends do. He never once reminded me of what he did for me, or ever said I owed him, he ain't like that. At the time all he wanted to see was me succeed at my art.

So eleven months later, he's turning down painting work because we are so busy. Every now and then he has to take a day or two off from painting for auditions, fittings or to spend time on the set for a shoot, it's cool with me. He was there for me and my pursuit. I'm more than happy to work a few extra hours a day, and sling a few extra gallons of paint to help him along the way to his goal.

Cause that's what friends do....

Ok, it use to be cute, now it's annoying

Durring my first year in New Orleans the only real work I could find was doing background work in films. It was kind of exciting at first, then it just became a boring part time job. Sure they fed us well and on occassion I got to stand next to an exploding building or get chased by monsters, but it got old fast.

I can currently make more money painting apartments, and I don't have to listen to whiny cry babies in the Extra Holding tent piss and moan about how hard of a job it is. "It's too hot, we've been here for hours, the director doesn't know what he's doing." Shut the hell up, you're getting paid $80 a day to walk back and forth across a street.  "Oh, at lunch they ran out of the Bar B Que chicken..." Yea, they were out of it on your THIRD TRIP BACK TO THE TABLE. I knew a woman who use to load up her purse from the craft table, no class.

I stopped applying for the work to devote myself to a steady income. Lately I have been annoyed by the amount of filming here in the Quarter. Sure, it's great for the local economy and we can take pride in our creative community, but damn it, you are blocking my path. I went to meet a friend on Frenchman Street, blocked by a Treme shoot, on my way to work this morning I had to step over cables and around trucks on Royal Street. I went for coffee on Decatur this afternoon, sidewalk blocked by lighting equipment and gawking tourists.

Yea, yea yea, they're filming a movie, big shit, get out of my way.

STEVIE NICKS ~ New Orleans

The Square peg finds it's square hole

I was talking to my downstairs neighbor Dawna this morning, like most mornings on my way to work. She understands what a privileged it is to live in the French Quarter. Her first visit here she proclaimed that she would move to the Quarter, and did. Thousands of tourists every week tourists say that, very few ever would. It's not a question of choosing to live here, it's a question of belonging here.

I'm finally feeling settled here. I have couch surfed one end of NOLA to the other. Irish Chanel, Broadmoore, Algiers on the West Bank, Mettarie, Mid City, and three separate couches in the French Quarter. This one is my own. As much as I hated my transient life style, it gave me a greater insight to the city. Neighborhoods and roomates. Lived in a house that still had a spray painted X on the door from Katrina.

Locals refer to this recent era as "Post Katrina" referring to anything prior they usually preface the sentence with "Pre-Katrina I worked as...." I have never asked any survivors details, but once they befriend you, you'll hear inspiration.

When I left work tonight at the Pontalba they were setting up for a balcony performance for classical music. Last month I was surrounded by Opera singers in theatrical garb while I was trying to clean paint brushes.  Every month the French Market Corporation is setting up live performances on the second floor balcony over looking Jackson Square. Not usual NOLA fare, opera, classical and next month a children's choir.  I'll leave early that day thank you.

I never felt this comfortable anywhere else.  I have the coolest neighbors in the world. Yea, it can get a little rough down here, but it's worth the risk.

Art imitating life or life intimidating art debate

Art imitating life or life intimidating art old debate. Down here in the French Quarter, they are one in the same. You can stop in front of an art gallery on Royal Street and look in the window at the paintings while your thoughts are being serenaded by a classical violinist playing eight feet behind you, while stepping in dog crap.

Tonight if you had looked in the window of Peter O'Neill's gallery you would have seen them filming a pilot for a series Subrosan. My friend Robert does a lot of film work on the side and is helping out on this hopeful pilot. When Robert heard they were looking for a gallery, he suggested our friend Peter's gallery. The director loved the look of the place, so it became a set. It is a cool spot, open up the front doors right on the corner and the rear of St Louis Cathedral is the back drop.

Mr. and Mrs. O'Neill were in featured background. Ironically, Peter and Noelle were cast as a doctor and wife buying Peter's art on his own walls. That life / art thing again.

About ten minutes ago....

About ten minutes ago, my neighbor Richard (he's kind of our version of Kramer) starts tapping on doors and yelling like there was a UFO hovering over Bourbon Street. 

Not that UFOs ever really get noticed over Bourbon Street. You watch where you walk, and if you dare  look up you might get a face full of beads or piss.  

He yells "There's a parade coming, cop cars are passing Bourbon now." Six feet away from our front door.

Ok, if it's that close, I'll go watch it. Imagine if you went out the front door of your house and found an all girl parade in your driveway. You would have to at least stick your head out the door and watch. 

The all female krew MOLASSES had a great parade down Toulouse tonight. I grabbed my simple camera and set it on auto. Here are the photos.

Eat your heart out New Jersey.

Quarter Randomess 1

One day I woke up and walked outside to find a drunk stripper on my doorstep. At that very moment a donkey drawn carriage with a mid western looking group of tourists rode by. Giving confused, indignant  looks, scowled at me trying to get her up and out of my way. I looked up at yelled "This is a great town, THEY DELIVER!" On that cue, 'Rocket' vomits on herself. I guess I got on some sort of subscription list.