As an adendum to this weekend...

...I made this rockin' bread pudding out of the leftover stale bread from the picnic the majority of the NOLA Robbies had in Audubon Park.


I used a Paula Deen recipe. It contained two sticks of butter and over three pounds of sugar. DISCLAIMER I made it in two pans. This is only one. You, stop worrying about the logistics of this small pan containing ridiculous amounts of lipids. RAWR COOKING.



Love to Paula Deen,
Jess

Accordion updates and the weekend.

Oh so many weekend funtimes. Pictures will follow soon enough.

So I went to this Mr. "Sunpie's" house alone at seven PM on Wednesday. Probably not a smart idea, but everyone at Ashe seems to know and love him, so I didn't think he was a dangerous fellow. Plus, he lives in a really nice house in a really nice neighborhood. His house was sparsely decorated, but full of instruments. He sat me down and gave me an hour and a half long lesson. The accordion is hard, yet not, it seems. It works a lot like a piano. Since I have a long history with the piano, it was pretty comprehensible. It's also interesting that the mechanics are a lot like a harmonica, and the buttons on the left side are, for the most part, in the same arrangement as an autoharp. Instrument-dabbling definitely has its advantages. (: Sunpie proceeded to tell me that I was a quick-study, and that I could hang on to his spare accordion for a few days to see if I still wanted to pursue it. "Most people don't stick with it," he said. I don't really want to disappoint him. I tried to pay him. He looked like he might've taken the money, but he finally said, "Just don't steal my accordion and make a little progress while you have it. I'll be happy then."

So Bruce "Sunpie" Barnes' accordion and I have made fine friends. I thought my incessant honking on it would irritate my housemates, but they tell me they love it. I've spent most of my time doing Decemberists covers. "Mariner's Revenge Song" anyone? There will be a video posted soon. It's impossible not to chronicle the epic accordion-ness of it all. Plus, I feel like I should give it back soon. I'm not sure what "a few days" means, but I think a week is pushing it. Still, I think I'm going to ask him if he knows of a cheap-ish one I can purchase. I'm addicted.

In other news, Jeanne from the program came to visit us. I was unfortunately battling the stomach flu when she came to our work, but she did take us out to eat, and I managed to nibble on some solid food. It was good to see her, and good to hear updates and what-not. Robertson dinners are always epic, especially in conversation. One side of the table was talking about economics and Rush Limbaugh, while the other side was debating the legality of assisted suicide. Oh, Robbies.

Tonight, I decided to explore a little. I set out in my car at dusk with no plans, other than a vague desire to drink some coffee. As I was driving, I decided I was also in the mood to look at the Mississippi river, so I drove in the direction of the French Quarter, got a cup of coffee from Cafe Du Monde and made my way to the riverwalk, which was largely deserted. I was hesitant to stay, since I was alone, and it was dark, and I felt like a target sitting on a park bench under a street light, but instead of leaving, I climbed down the bank amidst the chunks of rock and concrete and found a cozy enough perch and stared at the river. It was so beautiful. I had a perfect view of the lit up bridge and the West Bank. The sky was purple, and a river boat was pulling in to port. Its steam whistle sounded like a calliope. I sat there for a good thirty minutes, then realized I was not alone. The smell of cigarettes allerted me to a few homeless men dotting the bank, taking drags off of Pall Malls and drinking beer from paper bags, watching the scene. Huddled in my black members only jacket with a cup in my hand, I suppose I fit in well enough. So, we sat in amicable silence, watching the water and the lights, listening to the boats and the sounds of horses hooves on Decatur, and the squeaking. It wasn't until several minutes later that I realized what the squeaking was. As I was beginning to connect the sound with its source, a rather plump rat trotted by close to my feet. Though the view was nice, I decided it was not worth the plague. So, I scrambled back up the bank and headed off down the riverwalk to my car. As I was leaving one of my human riverbank companions told me I had a sad look in my eyes and reminded me, "Life's not all that bad, darling. Sure there are hard times. I think we both know that. But life is really quite a lovely thing." He's right. I told him thank you and wished him a good evening. I think that was one of my favorite New Orleans experiences thus far.

Pictures to come soon.

Needing sleep to wake up for work tomorrow,
Jess

Sunpie the Accordion Man

I'm doing a program called "The Artist's Way", which is a 12 week by-book program that's supposed to help unblock creativity. Sounds like a lot of self-help jargon, I thought, but everyone I know who has done it swears by it, and I'm starting to believe in it a little as well. Week three is all about synchronicity, and how people subconsciously prefer their doors closed so they don't have the responsibility to themselves to take hold of opportunities that present themselves because it's a leap from safety. However, the book said, if one is willing to allow good things to happen and welcome them, chances are, all sorts of doors will open automatically. Synchronicity, a greater force. The book challenged the reader to think of one wish or want that they had never sought to satisfy and to be open to an option to do so in the next week. Playing along, I remembered by life-long wish to learn to play the accordion. I decided to mention my desire to learn the accordion at work that day, and so I did.

At the first mention that I might be in the market for a decent, inexpensive starter accordion, I got the name of a music store a few blocks from my house owned by a man named "Jimmy" who might be able to help me out. On my second mention, a passing co-worker offered the number of his friend, a semi-professional accordionist and park ranger. I.e. This guy:



Sketch? Maybe. But I called him up. His name is Sunpie. Bruce "Sunpie" Barnes. "Sunpie" proceeded to tell me that if I had previous piano training (seven years of Classical paid off after all) that I should try the piano accordion. He went on to say that he happened to have one he could let me try out to see if I liked it if I wanted. I was just expecting the guy to give me advice on a brand or something. Now, Sunpie and I have an appointment at six this evening with a full-size piano accordion and perhaps synchronistic destiny? *cue eerie music* Creepy artist mumbo jumbo...

But doesn't he look like fun?
Wish me luck.

-Accordion Prodigy Jess

Video Blog- A typical post-work scene.

My kingdom for a fan...

First text blog post! Hooray! I’m at work, probably not the best place to be blogging. It’s been a typical day so far. There’s an event for Ashe next door in conjunction with the Central City Renaissance Alliance. CCRA is an organization working on revitalizing the Central City community with emphasis on the Oretha Castle Haley corridor. You can check out their website here. They’re pretty snazzy folks.

Parking today was a little difficult because of the event. I picked up Taylor from the gym as usual and headed over. I ended up parking near a vacant lot between two abandoned mattresses and half of a truck (yes, half of one) and accidentally stumbled into a bush filled with those prickly seeds when I got out of the car. I didn’t have time to pick them off then, so when I walked the block or two back to the center, they got even more tangled in my skirt. Fun times. When we came inside, we discovered that the air conditioner in the center was broken, yet again. What a day to wear sleeves. Unlike our other air-condition-less days, we don’t have a box fan this time. That box fan and I became fine friends during last week’s air conditioner crisis. Oops! Take that back. Kurt, one of the maintenance guys, just brought us up a fan. Hooray!

The heat here is a little overwhelming. It gets hotter by the day, and it’s only the end of June. The heat index yesterday made it up to 110. One thing is for sure: whatever weight I gain in red beans and rice intake (which is substantial), I lose in sweating.

As far as work goes, we’re working on a lot of odd projects. They expect you to work almost entirely independently here at Ashe, which is a good atmosphere for me. I dislike a lot of structure. We also have to make a lot of projects for ourselves, which I also don’t mind. Right now, I’ve convinced Carol to allow me to work on a series of art pieces that are going to serve as sort of commercial pieces for the center. They involve interpretations of andinkra symbols and incorporate things that have to do with the center, such as names of sponsors and partners, the center’s core values, etc. A bigger project I’m working on is a graphical representation of the “Ideal Central City” after it is redeveloped and businesses and housing options return to the area. Needless to say, I’m drawing a lot of buildings.

So, a work day starts and 10 and ends at 5 with an hour for lunch, and usually consists of Taylor and I sitting at a round kitchenette table in the middle of a bunch of desks where we plug away at our computers. Taylor usually does research or related pursuits, and I usually hunker down over a sketch pad and draw adinkras and buildings whilst listening to an audiobook. It’s amazing the speed at which I can read and work at the same time. I <3 multitasking. Right now, I’m finishing up “Into the Wild” by Jon Krakauer. I recommend it. If you have any recommendations of good books I should read, please, let me know!



Alright, enough procrastinating for now. Back to drawing things. Too bad I forgot headphones. Muh. More blogging to come!
So happy about this fan,


Jess

Video Blog - Leaving Home