New Orleans.

"I can barely conceive of a type of beauty in which there is no Melancholy."

Figured I'd start right off with a pompous quote from Baudelaire. But it's true. Especially if I focus the phrase on New Orleans.

I've experienced two prior visits, and both times walked away smitten...not of Bourbon and the like (terrible vomit-ridden area), but the city and outlying districts as a whole. The first trip occurred before Katrina, the second after. But the timing on the second trip was such that, while most of the obvious damage had been cleared away, the long-term effects of rot and mold had yet to be seen. Not so this time.

During careful consideration while trying to find a place to settle (or, more realistically described, a place to retreat to occasionally), I decided to travel down South again and take a more clinical look at the area and the culture. Walked away thinking I probably couldn't live with myself if I stayed there for too long. Ever-running fountains of racism and sexism aside, there is the grimy slime-covered notion of taking advantage of an impacted area. Not only by Katrina, but the area itself is driving away professionals and college-bound youth. So there are jobs available, and apartments aplenty. All you have to do is not care that you're joining a rapidly dwindling community. A singer I met while down there said, "No one's considered a tourist, just a future resident"....but I wonder if that's as true as it once was.

Don't get me wrong - the city is gorgeous, and still appears to be a favorite amongst European travelers (fancy I heard more English accents than US down there). The food is excellent, the drink as well...the architecture could keep me there for some time. The arts appear to flourish. As I've mentioned before in other blogs and such, the subculture is fascinating and beautiful. Where else do you find scrappy little leather-clad teens in techie pirate mode? One young couple particularly caught my eye the first time I was there....parking their rough bikes, her with her breasts bobbing and obvious through the sheer white blouse she had on, the no-bath-today boy following behind, no cares that anyone was around, kissing in the street. Wonderful. Made one want to move there. Between the romance (and slight tinge of danger and horror that always seems to lurk there - romance of another sort) and the divine coffee, I felt I could easily stay there for a goodly time.

This trip, the romance was a bit lost. The buildings have suffered terribly. Many neighborhoods look like someplace I wouldn't drive through in LA, despite my friend assuring me they were very nice. Rot has created gapped teeth in the abandoned buildings, squatters have provided interesting and beautiful graffiti and not-so-beautiful trash, and the mold grows everywhere. Great portions of the city look like you could blow on them and they'd fall over. Doors have been jimmied, hanging slightly open in an ominous greeting. Spray-painted windows broken. Combine this with the usual torrid stew from the tourists and it became a little overwhelming.

I stayed with a good, if slightly overprotective, friend while there. He lives on (in?) the Westbank. Apparently a little low on the New Orleans district hierarchy. He's renting one half of a double shotgun attached by an archway. This type of home is very common to the area and is one that I was considering - would have to consider, really. I aim for an apartment in the Garden District and did manage to find one listed that had two balconies and many windows....total "girl" apartment, and I loved it. Could see myself whiling away many a rainy afternoon with a snifter of brandy and book by the open window. Maybe start painting again. It's that sort of place.

Speaking of spirits, I manged to have some absinthe this time. Also watched how it was prepared. It includes the following steps:
1) place a slotted tray over the absinthe glass. Place two sugar cubes on the tray.2) pour a shot of absinthe over the cubes.
3) Sets the sugar cubes ablaze.
4) once they burn out, pour cold water over them until they dissolve.
Very strong taste of anise in any absinthe, but I gather that, dependant on the maker, the spirit itself can have many different herbal hints. Am very excited to try some different varieties ^^ Mine had the absolute bare minimum of wormwood in it (if indeed any at all); no green fairies for me. I also smoked for the first time since I was twelve, with similar results. It was a clove cigarette (or kretek); I wasnt inhaling, and yet managed to inhale anyway while laughing...much coughing and a sore throat ensued. The rest of the pack still sits in my purse, a week later.

Supposing I should wrap this up for now....but as a grand finale, here is a slideshow of some photos taken mainly in the rain (as that's all it seemed to do):