THE ISLAND was full of trees that needed to be cleared and there were no roads or bridges going to it. Catahoula Lake was the road.
Monday, October 27, 2014
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
The Independent Weekly
April 4, 2007
GOOD FRIDAY is a day of fasting and penance. It’s the day Jesus died on the cross, the darkest day on the Catholic calendar, followed by Easter Sunday, the brightest morning. Many Catholics in Louisiana pray the Way of the Cross, walking the 14 stations depicting events in the Passion of Christ and attend liturgical services with readings from the Gospel of John.
. . . we drove past thousands of dead deer lying on their backs, their legs sticking straight in the air, their faces reflected in shallow pools of blood and dark morning water puddles.
Sunday, October 19, 2014
LEGEND HAS IT that about two centuries ago, before the arrival of the Acadian exiles, a peaceful Indian village in what is now St. Martin Parish completely disappeared when the earth opened up and swallowed the entire camp.
Thursday, October 16, 2014
BACK IN CATAHOULA for more muscadine photography. Realized what I needed was not a zoom lens to get the vines closer to me, but waders for me to get closer to the vines. I made peace with the fact that a snake might slither around my legs, just praying I don't meet up with an alligator.
Her: “I keep having olfactory hallucinations.”
Him: “You keep having what?”
Her: “Olfactory hallucinations. I keep smelling bacon.”
Her: “Bacon and eggs.”
Him: “You’re just hungry.”
INSPIRED BY THE ELEGANT ironwork I saw during my recent trip to Paris, and by the slightly greenish, ghoulish tint of van Gogh's self portraits at Musee d'Orsay, I combined the photographs of my great-great-grandfather and great-grandmother with a close-up photograph of the main portal of Notre Dame to produce these mock-ups for the front and back covers of the big book of dreams I plan to publish next year.
EVERY NIGHT after I read for a bit and we turn off the lights, I lie on my back and think in the dark with my eyes closed. I don’t think about heavy things or worry. Those five or six minutes I reserve for creating. When the body is still and there is no drive to do anything except imagine, the mind’s juices flow most freely.
THE MIST CURLS and skates, rising from the lake. A bluejay swoops through the mist, departing one persimmon tree to squawk on another.
DIDN'T HAVE TIME for breakfast this morning. There won't be much sun in a few hours and I wanted to canoe down the little canal near the camp to photograph the muscadine vines while the light was still good.
CONTINUING TO DEVELOP the layout for the book, which has become a framework of vines since the last time I stood on the table over it and snapped a picture.
Monday, October 6, 2014
Social Studies Fair Project
4th Grade — 1983
I PLAN TO VISIT the space museum in Washington, DC this summer and I feel the project would help me to better understand the different exhibits in the museum. Most of the space programs have part of their exhibit at the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, DC.
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
IF YOU COULD PLANT anything, what would you plant? The hypnotist had guided our small group through an enticing gateway, into a sun-lighted corner of an imaginary garden, and was conjuring a fertile patch of freshly tilled earth.