ink and nail polish on wood 6"x12"
•entire piece executed in one session
at a bar over a bottle of wine after The Fest•
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Friday, May 3, 2013
Friends and The Fest
For the past week or so I've been away from my computer, sort of isolated in my own home, during certain hours, from some of my things, some of my instruments that are such a part of my daily routines and interests. So no blogging for me lately. BUT... I have two of the most outstanding reasons in the world for not being able to easily access the huge room with the yellow walls where my art table, music equipment, and my desk and computer sit: Excellent friends crashing on the futon, here from D.C for reason number two; The New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival, Jazz Fest, The Fest. Yeah you right!
It's one of my favorite times of the year, Jazz Fest. I go all day everyday, rain or shine. Yeah. I'm that guy. I love me some Jazz Fest. We ride our bikes out there sometime around noon usually, maybe with a Mardi Gras cup filled with home made beer or some almost-too-sweet wine clenched in one hand, wearing an impossibly shiny shirt pulled from way back in the Fest Shirt Section of my clothes closet, and a beat up yet dapper white hat (a Jazz Fest Veteran in its own right) and a pair of shoes that are either made to handle being hosed off at the end of the day or that are just downright disposable. The bike ride out is always a mellow experience, full of chatter and anticipation of the impending joy. We lock the bikes up within a few blocks of one of the main Festival entrances, but even closer to the Santa Fe restaurant, the purveyors of our favorite sidewalk margarita stands, and grab a cocktail for the walk.
And the Fest... what can I say? Two weekends, seven days out at the Fairgrounds, the second oldest horse racing track still in operation, a beautiful, centrally located venue that has been the site for the Fest for many years now. Twelve stages and tents, amazing food that vendors have to "auditionn" for in order to be accepted into the food line up. The music line up is amazing, way too many big names to list here. (check out the lineup here: http://lineup.nojazzfest.com/) And the crowd is mellow and the vibe is sweet, happy, and peaceful. During the week, all over town the music clubs and parks in the city light up with music everywhere — everywhere!— in a city already boasting a legendary live music scene. Honestly, it just gets ridiculous.
One of my personal Jazz Fest traditions is to produce a small body of art work, usually drawings, executed during the week of The Fest, sometimes at The Fest. Last year a white baseball cap served as my sketch book. That cap is now one of my favorite pieces of head gear. I've posted a picture above. This year I have a few other works in progress. I'll be posting those as I finish them.
And our friends... our friends! Our lovely friends who have stayed with us in the past for previous Jazz Festivals, one of whom used to live in New Orleans, his wife now seven and a half months pregnant, love The Fest as much as we do. And this year they brought with them a friend of theirs, a Scotsman from Edinburgh who had never been to New Orleans much less The Fest. He ate boudin and shrimp, made new friends in the almost two hours he spent chatting and learning to suck the heads and peel the tails while belly up to a folding table strewn with hot crayfish in a friend's yard. Early in the mornings he walked around our Freret Street area neighborhood, took some photos, and most assuredly soaked up some local culture. I can't speak for him, the Scotsman. But I'm pretty certain he had good time. And we enjoyed all of them and their time here. The Fest is such a great way to relieve stress, decompress, and just enjoy the company of friends, the music, the food, the culture, and the peaceful joy that permeates the entire event.
Now our friends are gone. We miss them already. But this is the second weekend of Jazz Fest. And we've got to keep the momentum and the traditions alive. Unseasonably cool temperatures are on tap, a very unusual development. We drank a whole five gallon batch of home brew last weekend. But I'm confident we can find some suitable commercially available product that will fulfill our needs this weekend. And I know that I still have a few rarely worn shirts that are frighteningly and stylishly appropriate for some intensely sincere Festin'. Yeah you right, mah li'l dawlins!
It's one of my favorite times of the year, Jazz Fest. I go all day everyday, rain or shine. Yeah. I'm that guy. I love me some Jazz Fest. We ride our bikes out there sometime around noon usually, maybe with a Mardi Gras cup filled with home made beer or some almost-too-sweet wine clenched in one hand, wearing an impossibly shiny shirt pulled from way back in the Fest Shirt Section of my clothes closet, and a beat up yet dapper white hat (a Jazz Fest Veteran in its own right) and a pair of shoes that are either made to handle being hosed off at the end of the day or that are just downright disposable. The bike ride out is always a mellow experience, full of chatter and anticipation of the impending joy. We lock the bikes up within a few blocks of one of the main Festival entrances, but even closer to the Santa Fe restaurant, the purveyors of our favorite sidewalk margarita stands, and grab a cocktail for the walk.
And the Fest... what can I say? Two weekends, seven days out at the Fairgrounds, the second oldest horse racing track still in operation, a beautiful, centrally located venue that has been the site for the Fest for many years now. Twelve stages and tents, amazing food that vendors have to "auditionn" for in order to be accepted into the food line up. The music line up is amazing, way too many big names to list here. (check out the lineup here: http://lineup.nojazzfest.com/) And the crowd is mellow and the vibe is sweet, happy, and peaceful. During the week, all over town the music clubs and parks in the city light up with music everywhere — everywhere!— in a city already boasting a legendary live music scene. Honestly, it just gets ridiculous.
One of my personal Jazz Fest traditions is to produce a small body of art work, usually drawings, executed during the week of The Fest, sometimes at The Fest. Last year a white baseball cap served as my sketch book. That cap is now one of my favorite pieces of head gear. I've posted a picture above. This year I have a few other works in progress. I'll be posting those as I finish them.
And our friends... our friends! Our lovely friends who have stayed with us in the past for previous Jazz Festivals, one of whom used to live in New Orleans, his wife now seven and a half months pregnant, love The Fest as much as we do. And this year they brought with them a friend of theirs, a Scotsman from Edinburgh who had never been to New Orleans much less The Fest. He ate boudin and shrimp, made new friends in the almost two hours he spent chatting and learning to suck the heads and peel the tails while belly up to a folding table strewn with hot crayfish in a friend's yard. Early in the mornings he walked around our Freret Street area neighborhood, took some photos, and most assuredly soaked up some local culture. I can't speak for him, the Scotsman. But I'm pretty certain he had good time. And we enjoyed all of them and their time here. The Fest is such a great way to relieve stress, decompress, and just enjoy the company of friends, the music, the food, the culture, and the peaceful joy that permeates the entire event.
Now our friends are gone. We miss them already. But this is the second weekend of Jazz Fest. And we've got to keep the momentum and the traditions alive. Unseasonably cool temperatures are on tap, a very unusual development. We drank a whole five gallon batch of home brew last weekend. But I'm confident we can find some suitable commercially available product that will fulfill our needs this weekend. And I know that I still have a few rarely worn shirts that are frighteningly and stylishly appropriate for some intensely sincere Festin'. Yeah you right, mah li'l dawlins!
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