29.10.06
28.10.06
home again, eager to get as much work done as possible so i can go back for longer next week.
try to do a painting every day of each neighborhood.
i showed mrs virgin and aunt debbie the pictures and my paintings, and they were both very strong. mrs virgin had shown tears before, but she didn't this time. she said she was surprised by herself that it was actually quite a relief. she was glad.
they still didn't want mr dick to see, even though when they told him that it was happening he said "it's about time."
i think he could handle it if he wanted to see them, but they are concerned. it's hard to face even after this long. and they think seeing the house in the first place is what gave him the stroke.
but now they can save the insurance money and can focus on their new house, which they are very excited about.
this afternoon i go to a new iberia wedding. rockon.
i went back the next morning to watch them finish, and help aunt debbie deal with the shed that they didn't remove because the nieghbors put a sign on it claiming it. they finished cleaning the lot, now just a slab with bits of linoleum and names carved in the cement.
and i started painting.
i painted there most of the day. when th kids got off school they painted with me.
it was interesting to get to spend a whole day in the neighborhood like that.
i think for 4 or 5 hours all i saw where the periodic goverment vehicle or construction truck.
oh-and the scavengers.
old flat bed pickups would pass by with a heap of junk in the back, driving real slow past each lot.
scavengers.
when mrs virgin's neighbor saw me that morning when my canvas was still almost white, and i told her what i was doing--painting the old house and then i would paint the lot over it--tears welled in her eyes.
i asked if it would be too hard having me here doing this and she said no, not for her, but her daughter maybe.
she had been very upset the day before, crying all day.
it's incredible to me,
i went out to dinner that night with 3 full time residents of the city, and just overhearing the neighborhood conversation for two days and the construction worker's conversations all day and ...everywhere i've been.
the conversation almost never strays from storm related stuff.
there's just so much logistics, insurance and red tape and ...so much to adjust to and learn that they are constantly talking about stuff amongst themselves. comparing how its going with this department or that or how they're dealing with the rats or which neighbor isn't cutting their grass or refuses to tear down their house even though they havn't gutted it or cleaned it or anything and how much the houses in which block have been selling for and when the oil spill suit is going through and the guy that used to work for fema that went on his own as a plumber and is making bank and whether or not their paycvhecks from fema will come this week and...on and on and on. which neighborhoods will come back, who's coming back how they'll be different.
everything is either "before katrina" or "since katrina."
at dinner it was a doctor and...i guess we'd call him a politician. he's the head of a bunch of public groups, his neighborhood group and also the neighborhood development organization for the city.
but that was the big topic with almost everyone i've talked to-neighborhoods.
that's what they've been mourning.
their neighbors that they've lived with for decades aren't coming back.
or such and such neighborhood is getting bought up by young professionals and all the older people who lived there are buying closer to the lake,
or the 9th ward --where houses have been handed down for generations without any paperwork being done so now no one knows who legally owns them.
but it's like mrs tiffany said when her daugter asked why i was painting this-
this is history. it won't always be like this.
and i started painting.
i painted there most of the day. when th kids got off school they painted with me.
it was interesting to get to spend a whole day in the neighborhood like that.
i think for 4 or 5 hours all i saw where the periodic goverment vehicle or construction truck.
oh-and the scavengers.
old flat bed pickups would pass by with a heap of junk in the back, driving real slow past each lot.
scavengers.
when mrs virgin's neighbor saw me that morning when my canvas was still almost white, and i told her what i was doing--painting the old house and then i would paint the lot over it--tears welled in her eyes.
i asked if it would be too hard having me here doing this and she said no, not for her, but her daughter maybe.
she had been very upset the day before, crying all day.
it's incredible to me,
i went out to dinner that night with 3 full time residents of the city, and just overhearing the neighborhood conversation for two days and the construction worker's conversations all day and ...everywhere i've been.
the conversation almost never strays from storm related stuff.
there's just so much logistics, insurance and red tape and ...so much to adjust to and learn that they are constantly talking about stuff amongst themselves. comparing how its going with this department or that or how they're dealing with the rats or which neighbor isn't cutting their grass or refuses to tear down their house even though they havn't gutted it or cleaned it or anything and how much the houses in which block have been selling for and when the oil spill suit is going through and the guy that used to work for fema that went on his own as a plumber and is making bank and whether or not their paycvhecks from fema will come this week and...on and on and on. which neighborhoods will come back, who's coming back how they'll be different.
everything is either "before katrina" or "since katrina."
at dinner it was a doctor and...i guess we'd call him a politician. he's the head of a bunch of public groups, his neighborhood group and also the neighborhood development organization for the city.
but that was the big topic with almost everyone i've talked to-neighborhoods.
that's what they've been mourning.
their neighbors that they've lived with for decades aren't coming back.
or such and such neighborhood is getting bought up by young professionals and all the older people who lived there are buying closer to the lake,
or the 9th ward --where houses have been handed down for generations without any paperwork being done so now no one knows who legally owns them.
but it's like mrs tiffany said when her daugter asked why i was painting this-
this is history. it won't always be like this.
27.10.06
head soup
this morning i had to wait around in mrs pam's (awesome totally new orleans shotgun) apartment until the weather passed and the tornado warnings were no longer in effect (it only took 2 hours, to give you an idea of the weather here in louisiana).
i drove home under gorgeous blue skies until traffic came to a dead stop for about an hour. i never even saw the accident, but between new orleans and lafayette there are stretches of bridge with no exits or crossovers for miles an dmiles, so when any little thing happens it becomes a huge roadblock.
yep. felt very familiar, reminded me of many a childhood incident.
this run in new orleans was great.
despite having missed the beginning of the demolition of mrs. virgin's house, i ended up getting a lot done.
after the maple leaf night, i slept later than i wanted to and after running some errands i made just enough wrong turns and inefficient route choices that i didn't have time to go all the way to chalmette before i was gonna meet mom and malakai for lunch.
she was going to be working during all saints day next week, so she wanted to come put flowers on the family grave.
that's really what convinced me not to be anal about mrs virgin's,
cause i've always loved the cemeteries, and have never been with my mom to the grave. her grandparents and uncles and two aunts that i grew up with are buried there.
you can put up to 50 people in one 6ft plot. you just keep putting them on top of each other and they drop down and as they decay they just become part of the marsh underneath. cool, eh?
then we went to lunch, and by the time i got to mrs virgin's it was about 4pm, and they were well under way (although they only started working at 3:15, it is just avery quick process.)
here's what her house looked like 2 days ago.
this is what it looked like when i got there.
the whole neighborhood--out to watch
(there are only 2 or 3 families on the bloack)
i drove home under gorgeous blue skies until traffic came to a dead stop for about an hour. i never even saw the accident, but between new orleans and lafayette there are stretches of bridge with no exits or crossovers for miles an dmiles, so when any little thing happens it becomes a huge roadblock.
yep. felt very familiar, reminded me of many a childhood incident.
this run in new orleans was great.
despite having missed the beginning of the demolition of mrs. virgin's house, i ended up getting a lot done.
after the maple leaf night, i slept later than i wanted to and after running some errands i made just enough wrong turns and inefficient route choices that i didn't have time to go all the way to chalmette before i was gonna meet mom and malakai for lunch.
she was going to be working during all saints day next week, so she wanted to come put flowers on the family grave.
that's really what convinced me not to be anal about mrs virgin's,
cause i've always loved the cemeteries, and have never been with my mom to the grave. her grandparents and uncles and two aunts that i grew up with are buried there.
you can put up to 50 people in one 6ft plot. you just keep putting them on top of each other and they drop down and as they decay they just become part of the marsh underneath. cool, eh?
then we went to lunch, and by the time i got to mrs virgin's it was about 4pm, and they were well under way (although they only started working at 3:15, it is just avery quick process.)
here's what her house looked like 2 days ago.
this is what it looked like when i got there.
the whole neighborhood--out to watch
(there are only 2 or 3 families on the bloack)
25.10.06
on the way to mrs virgin's house, you drive down a street caled claiborne, that turns into judge perez. it goes on for miles and miles into the suburb chalmette. it's the street uncle tommy and laine drive past twice a day. every day.
here are a couple pics from the view:
anywya- on this street i noticed a house that somehow i hadn't noticed before.
it was next door to a mechanics shop, i suppose the area could be classified as the 9th ward, but the north 9th.
so the mechanic approached me and at first i thought he was getting aggressive so as to kick me off his property, but in fact he asked if i could help him by taking pictures of his shop so he could put them on a website to try to get donations or grants of some sort because no inusrance money is coming through to repair the damages to his business.
-his name is mr. smith.
(that's not him)
smith auto sales and body shop.
211 N robertson St.
new Orleans, LA 70017
he could use some help, if anyone reading knows of any way to help :)
when i finally made it to mrs virgin's house i could see they were not working on it so i stopped and talked to her neighbor for a while (the one who called and told her they were tearing it down, because ti is not their policy to notify homeowners.)
she has 2 kids and after floating around a while they decided to move into a trailer in front of their own house so the kids could have some familiarity.
they seemed happy and adjusted enough. although she said during the time when all the schools were "unified" into one school, and at all the temporary intermediate schools, they had some problems with bully's.
now they ride their bikes up and down deserted streets, a few trailers in front of h omes to be repaired, but at least 12 scheduled for demolition (mrs virgin's will be the first to actually have anything done to it)
she very sincerely expressed that watching other poeple's homes hadn't gotten to her, but every time she thinks about mrs virgin's home being gone it makes her sad. i guess mrs virgin really took the young couple in when they moved to the neighborhood and she considers her family and misses very much the neighborhood being intact.
she wants to video the dmeolision just in case mrs virgin and mr dick ever want to see it.
...then i went to the maple leaf again. this time to paint.
i didn't intend to, but i stayed on the hood of my car accross the street, painting under a streetlight, until 3am.
all of frenchy's posse (he rules the block fo sho) would com eup and say hi. (they're all artists visiting from out of state)
and the tourists, and vendors, and even musicians playing the club came over to see what i was up during breaks.
great way to meet the neighborhood.
heh.
i guess we'll call it an exc ercise in painting on burlap.
here are a couple pics from the view:
anywya- on this street i noticed a house that somehow i hadn't noticed before.
it was next door to a mechanics shop, i suppose the area could be classified as the 9th ward, but the north 9th.
so the mechanic approached me and at first i thought he was getting aggressive so as to kick me off his property, but in fact he asked if i could help him by taking pictures of his shop so he could put them on a website to try to get donations or grants of some sort because no inusrance money is coming through to repair the damages to his business.
-his name is mr. smith.
(that's not him)
smith auto sales and body shop.
211 N robertson St.
new Orleans, LA 70017
he could use some help, if anyone reading knows of any way to help :)
when i finally made it to mrs virgin's house i could see they were not working on it so i stopped and talked to her neighbor for a while (the one who called and told her they were tearing it down, because ti is not their policy to notify homeowners.)
she has 2 kids and after floating around a while they decided to move into a trailer in front of their own house so the kids could have some familiarity.
they seemed happy and adjusted enough. although she said during the time when all the schools were "unified" into one school, and at all the temporary intermediate schools, they had some problems with bully's.
now they ride their bikes up and down deserted streets, a few trailers in front of h omes to be repaired, but at least 12 scheduled for demolition (mrs virgin's will be the first to actually have anything done to it)
she very sincerely expressed that watching other poeple's homes hadn't gotten to her, but every time she thinks about mrs virgin's home being gone it makes her sad. i guess mrs virgin really took the young couple in when they moved to the neighborhood and she considers her family and misses very much the neighborhood being intact.
she wants to video the dmeolision just in case mrs virgin and mr dick ever want to see it.
...then i went to the maple leaf again. this time to paint.
i didn't intend to, but i stayed on the hood of my car accross the street, painting under a streetlight, until 3am.
all of frenchy's posse (he rules the block fo sho) would com eup and say hi. (they're all artists visiting from out of state)
and the tourists, and vendors, and even musicians playing the club came over to see what i was up during breaks.
great way to meet the neighborhood.
heh.
i guess we'll call it an exc ercise in painting on burlap.
24.10.06
breaking news
after over a year, they finally started demolishing mrs virgin and "pawpaw dick"'s house.
it'll be gone by the weekend. she was in tears in the kitchen this morning.
so i'm taking off to see what i can see.
it'll be gone by the weekend. she was in tears in the kitchen this morning.
so i'm taking off to see what i can see.
23.10.06
20.10.06
painting day
third day behind a painting.
standing in the same place all day is a great way to learn to look at light.
19.10.06
i didn't end up painting a lick while i was there this time. but i suppose i'm still in research mode, so...i can't beat myself up too much.
i spent the first night at my cousin's house. he inherited the house from his brother, who -although their house was livable as soon as 6 weeks after the storm- had to move out of the city because his kids were having psychological problems--his 5 year old, for instance was chronically afraid of germs and scrubbed her hands till they bled. anyway, the house is big and so they said they didn't mind if i came and went.
oh, wait- i already wrote about the jazz club, didn't i?
well, the next morning (after his girlfrien'ds kids made me breakfast)
i went to put a sign up at a house i'd like to paint in, so that they might give me permission to paint inside the house,
and i noticed a big group in a prayer circle accross the street and mosied over.
they were kind enough to let me watch and take pictures of them working to clean out someone's house so it can be demolished.
i never understood what exactly a bunch of random people could do to help in a situation like this. a situation where there is clearly shortage of resources, but where there are lots of people. the thing is it is just so much work.
to demolish a house.
hours and hours of hard physical work.
days. weeks.
and when people are trying to get themselves back on their feet they can't not go to work themselves, and even if they can take time off--for instance, my aunt and uncle where interested in this group, because they have been on a list since the hurricane hit to have their mother-in law's house demolished. still waiting.
they have cleaned out their own home and their sister's home and just don't have the time or energy to give to another house.
so-it really is incredible what need these volunteers are filling.
this house was also an elderly woman, who couldn't do it on her own. it'd just been sitting like this for a year. she probably never even went inside herself. for som eits too tragic, but for a lot of people, older and not as feeble, its simply too dangerous. you have to walk on piles of debree with furniture and rafters and eveyrthing else.
it is incredible still, today how many piles of debree are just making their way to the curb. in every neighborhood. my mom said the first 6 months the whole block was just a pile of debree 8 feet high in everyone's yard. still,
shit. i know how hard it is just to pack up and move. can't imagine havin gto move even the walls out too.
as i was walking away to my car a tour van drove by. tourism will be the only thing to save the city, and ironically, the katrina tour is the most popular thing to do in new orleans these days.
i also saw a car full of chinese men unload from a sedan next door. i had to ask if they were checking out property to buy, but they said (in trying english) that they were just here to see everything, because they have been selling a lot of material here. concrete and lumber and whatnot.
then i went back to my uncle's neighborhood.
a couple highlights.
i went down his street systematically, and took a picture of each house in order. i could have gone on for blocks and blocks, but i stopped at my uncle's house.
i picked my cousin up from school and we went back to her trailer. when we walked up to her trailer she noted that someone had com eby and worked on the trailer while they were away. i guess fema has the keys to all the trailers and this is pretty routine. she said it made her nervous. they had apparantly changed the locks too and she was calling her dad to tell him she was locked out when i noticed that the landmarks my mom had pointed out where missing--the bbq pit and tv antena. heh. i realized we were trying to get in to the wrong trailer. not such a hard thing to do when your neighborhood looks like this:
eh?
i spent the first night at my cousin's house. he inherited the house from his brother, who -although their house was livable as soon as 6 weeks after the storm- had to move out of the city because his kids were having psychological problems--his 5 year old, for instance was chronically afraid of germs and scrubbed her hands till they bled. anyway, the house is big and so they said they didn't mind if i came and went.
oh, wait- i already wrote about the jazz club, didn't i?
well, the next morning (after his girlfrien'ds kids made me breakfast)
i went to put a sign up at a house i'd like to paint in, so that they might give me permission to paint inside the house,
and i noticed a big group in a prayer circle accross the street and mosied over.
they were kind enough to let me watch and take pictures of them working to clean out someone's house so it can be demolished.
i never understood what exactly a bunch of random people could do to help in a situation like this. a situation where there is clearly shortage of resources, but where there are lots of people. the thing is it is just so much work.
to demolish a house.
hours and hours of hard physical work.
days. weeks.
and when people are trying to get themselves back on their feet they can't not go to work themselves, and even if they can take time off--for instance, my aunt and uncle where interested in this group, because they have been on a list since the hurricane hit to have their mother-in law's house demolished. still waiting.
they have cleaned out their own home and their sister's home and just don't have the time or energy to give to another house.
so-it really is incredible what need these volunteers are filling.
this house was also an elderly woman, who couldn't do it on her own. it'd just been sitting like this for a year. she probably never even went inside herself. for som eits too tragic, but for a lot of people, older and not as feeble, its simply too dangerous. you have to walk on piles of debree with furniture and rafters and eveyrthing else.
it is incredible still, today how many piles of debree are just making their way to the curb. in every neighborhood. my mom said the first 6 months the whole block was just a pile of debree 8 feet high in everyone's yard. still,
shit. i know how hard it is just to pack up and move. can't imagine havin gto move even the walls out too.
as i was walking away to my car a tour van drove by. tourism will be the only thing to save the city, and ironically, the katrina tour is the most popular thing to do in new orleans these days.
i also saw a car full of chinese men unload from a sedan next door. i had to ask if they were checking out property to buy, but they said (in trying english) that they were just here to see everything, because they have been selling a lot of material here. concrete and lumber and whatnot.
then i went back to my uncle's neighborhood.
a couple highlights.
i went down his street systematically, and took a picture of each house in order. i could have gone on for blocks and blocks, but i stopped at my uncle's house.
i picked my cousin up from school and we went back to her trailer. when we walked up to her trailer she noted that someone had com eby and worked on the trailer while they were away. i guess fema has the keys to all the trailers and this is pretty routine. she said it made her nervous. they had apparantly changed the locks too and she was calling her dad to tell him she was locked out when i noticed that the landmarks my mom had pointed out where missing--the bbq pit and tv antena. heh. i realized we were trying to get in to the wrong trailer. not such a hard thing to do when your neighborhood looks like this:
eh?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)