371/365 Locked Out
271/365
Few photos advance with me through the years. I take new ones that replace older ones that have lost their mystery over time. But this photo still intrigues me seven years later.
A rusted lock, a corroded gate, and a cemetery. Still a mystery.
229-233/365 A 5 Day Wrap Up
This was one of those weeks I decided to cut back on daily posting and go with an end-of-week post. I’m running out of steam and need to rejuvenate somehow.
229/365 It rained during the night, leaving raindrops in the half-empty wine glass the next morning.
230/365 This is at MacNiven’s, one of my favorite bars on Mass Ave.
231/365 Hard shadows and bright highlights. That’s what this photo is all about. And green. It’s about green, also. Crown Hill Cemetery, Indianapolis, IN
232/365 Sometimes it’s all about the humor.
233/365 This is another “deliberately bad photo.” I was going for double exposure…I think. Whatever it was, I succeeded.
212/365 In the Garden, But Not
212/365
I like this because of the symbolism. The statue is in a cemetery in Bloomington, Indiana.
Tales of the Crypts
I didn’t sign up for a tour of the The Cities of the Dead, as the cemeteries are called because of their resemblance to cities with houses and fences and streets and all, but I didn’t need to. I stumbled upon tour after tour and caught bits and pieces of cemetery history. For instance, the above-ground vaults are rooted in French and Spanish burial practices. Due to the high water table after it rained and the chaos it caused with floating corpses (you can’t keep a corpse down), the people of New Orleans decided to imitate the French and Spanish burial practices of using vaults. At least, that’s what many believe. But a tour guide will tell you that’s wrong, that the French and Spanish brought their burial practices to New Orleans and that it has nothing to do with the water table. My thoughts? I’m sure the French and Spanish influence is great because they settled New Orleans, but I also suspect that there were below-ground burials that resulted in floating corpses when the water table rose, giving credence to those stories, also. Whatever the reason, we have the Cities of the Dead.
Occasionally, I would find an open vault, and as I passed one tour group (I never stayed to listen because I wanted my own experience of the cemeteries, but it’s hard to turn off your ears), I heard her say, “Families will inter the deceased for at least one year and a day, after which, if there’s another person to be buried, they will open the vault, burn the coffin, and push the decomposed remains to the back of the tomb or to the area below. This may sound strange to us, but this was common practice of the French and Spanish settlers.”
Cemetery No. 35
I came upon this vault and found it intriguing with resurrection ferns growing around it’s opening.
Cemetery No. 36
I stepped close to it and peered in. I felt like an intruder and wondered if I had disturbed the spirits of the dead by taking a photo.
Cemetery No. 37
I quickly moved away and wandered down another small path. A couple of lanes away I could hear a tour guide saying, “You will notice open vaults. We strongly suggest that you don’t go near them. You don’t know how recently they’ve been opened and the exhumed air could still be present. Illness may then result.”
Well. Now I find out! By the way, I’m still alive, and I’m not sick—yet. My skin is still in tact, and I’m not craving brains so I’m not a zombie, either. Good news.
On a bright, sunny day, I visited the oldest cemetery in New Orleans, St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, established in 1789. It is located just beyond the French District near the Iberville Housing Project…not a safe area, and I was told not to wander through the cemetery alone. I went alone and had no problems, but I can see the possibility of being mugged. On the other hand, with all the tours going through, I doubt anyone was in danger.
St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 has interesting people associated with it. I stood before this huge pyramid, obviously newly built but I assumed it was replacing an older vault. A tour group started to converge, so I took a photo and turned to leave.
Cemetery No. 44
“This is the tomb of Nicholas Cage,” I overheard. “The banks can’t take this away from him! Burial vaults are not subject to repossession to repay debt.”
Wow.
One of the main attractions in St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 is the alleged tomb of Marie Laveau, one of the most powerful Voodoo Queens to ever live.
Cemetery No. 39
According to overheard snippets of tour guide wisdom, voodoo legend says that to awaken Marie Laveau’s powerful voodoo magic, go to her tomb, knock three times (to wake her from her sleep of the dead), mark the tomb with XXX in chalk or brick (tour guide said you can just use your fingers and draw the X’s), knock three times again, make your wish, then leave an offering. I’ve heard other versions that include turning around three times or rubbing your foot against a cup. What is consistent is to knock three times, draw at least one, but mostly three X’s (however, not with your finger, that’s something that is new to help keep the tomb from vandalism and disrepair), make a wish, leave an offering.
Cemetery No. 41 Dried flowers as an offering. Notice all the XXX’s on the tomb.
Cemetery No. 40 More offerings.
Cemetery No. 42 Other drawings on the vault.
Cemetery No. 43 This man is not a tour guide. He’s a volunteer and I’m sure he has to remove offerings from the tomb frequently. But he’s also a wealth of information not associated with tours.
Off and on I passed an old man dressed in ragged clothes, mumbling to himself. I assumed him to be homeless and rather harmless since he would avoid people when they passed him. As I was leaving St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, I noticed this bizarre tomb painted in garish magentas and blues. It’s as if a crazy person was given a brush and paints and they slathered the colors over everything, including rocks and silk flowers. Fascinated, I took a couple of photos. A tour moved in. Being rather tired of them interrupting me, I continued to take photos of this craziness.
Cemetery No. 45 Painted rocks.
Cemetery No. 46 Painted silk flower.
“A demented, old man takes care of this tomb….” the tour guide began.
I left.
I didn’t need to take a tour. I garnered information everywhere I went just by overhearing the tour guides. I’m sure I missed out on other interesting information about the Cities of the Dead, but I wasn’t there to take a tour. I wanted my own experience. Now that I have had my own experience, maybe next time I’ll take a tour. Maybe.
Ode No. 4 to Wrought Iron: Ornamentations
Photos taken at Lafayette Cemetery No. 1, St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, Greenwood Cemetery.
Ode No. 3 to Wrought Iron: Details
Photos taken at Lafayette Cemetery No. 1, St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, Greenwood Cemetery.
Ode No. 2 to Wrought Iron: Finials
Photos taken at Lafayette Cemetery No. 1, St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, Greenwood Cemetery.
Ode No. 1 to Wrought Iron: Fences
Photos taken at Lafayette Cemetery No. 1, St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, Greenwood Cemetery.
Let’s Wander The Cemetery, Shall We?
Overcast. Misty rain. Solitude. Perfect day for a walk in the cemetery.
Cemetery No. 3
Cemetery No. 4
Cemetery No. 12
Cemetery No. 13
Cemetery No. 14
Cemetery No. 17
Cemetery No. 19
Cemetery No. 20
Cemetery No. 24
Cemetery No. 31
Cemetery No. 33
Cemetery No. 34
Today I wish I’d had someone else with me to help me select photos. I love so many of them that it was difficult to choose a small selection to represent the whole experience. Initially, I picked 34 images for this post thinking everyone would be as fascinated by them as I am. But then, reason brought me back to reality. Thirty-four is too many for one post, so I cut the selected photos down to twelve. I have a Flickr account where I’ll post them all. You can find them in my New Orleans set or my Cemetery set.
I Ride a Streetcar and Discover I Have a Bucket List
No. The streetcar is not on my bucket list. I know, because my stomach didn’t get giddy with butterflies and I didn’t break out into a huge smile and tears didn’t well up in my eyes when I saw the streetcar.
Streetcar No. 1 If a streetcar makes you all giddy, then go for it! New Orleans has some nice ones.
Friend: What are your plans today?
Me: The cemetery!!!!
I love cemeteries, especially old cemeteries. Wherever I go, I visit a cemetery because I love the sense of place, of history, of life and of death, of ritual, and of meaning. I’ve learned a lot about the evolution of the belief towards the afterlife just by wandering through cemeteries and noting death dates. The older the date, the more horrifying the afterlife depicted in the iconography. At least, that’s how it is in the States. Skull and crossbones, skeletons, skulls with wings; it’s all very fascinating compared to the more contemporary imagery of laser-cut portraits of the deceased or of deer and nature or whatever the deceased’s interest was.
Friend: Ok, you’ll want to take the streetcar. Get on at Gravier and not Canal Street. Locals know to get on before Canal Street.
I nod my head.
Friend: To get to Gravier, go out and turn right, then cross over to…..
Ok, I admit it, I’m directionally challenged. If I can’t picture it, I can’t follow it. And since I don’t know the streets of New Orleans, I couldn’t picture it, and so I stopped following it.
Friend: Did you get that?
I nod my head.
Friend: Ask the conductor to let you off at the cemetery stop.
I nod my head.
Then I set out and wander around the CBD where I was staying (Central Business District—CBD for short). I hope to run into Gravier.
I cross a small street where I stumble on the uneven pavement. When I look down, I notice streetcar rails. I look up at a street sign. Gravier!
Me: I’d like to get off at the cemetery stop.
Conductor: I’ll announce it.
Streetcar No. 2
A little later
Conductor: Washington Street.
I sit there.
Conductor: Washington Street!
I sit there.
Conductor: WASHINGTON STREET!
I look up and see him looking at me in his mirror. He nods. Oh!
Me: Thank you.
He waves in a vague direction and says, “Just down the street. Please walk in front of the streetcar when you cross.” No, he didn’t run me down. He was very polite.
There are many cemeteries in New Orleans. For my first cemetery, I chose Lafayette No. 1 in the Garden District. As I walk in the general direction of where the conductor waved, I notice remnants of Mardi Gras in the trees.
Beads No. 01
Beads No. 02
I notice tree roots that refuse to be contained.
Tree Roots No. 1
Then, from a distance, I notice rooftops, and my stomach gets all giddy with butterflies and I break out into a huge smile and tears well up in my eyes, and for the first time in a long time, a dream comes true. My first New Orleans cemetery!
Cemetery 01
I have a bucket list but it wasn’t until this moment that I realized I had one. It feels good to visit a dream.
144/365 Why Cemeteries Fascinate Me
144/365
Crown Hill Cemetery in Indianapolis is the third largest non-government cemetery in the nation. Within the cemetery on the gentle slopes behind the Gothic Chapel is the Crown Hill National Cemetery. This photo is of part of the national cemetery.
Cemeteries fascinate me. I know I have alluded to this fascination in other posts so I have decided to explain why.
Years ago I participated in art exchanges. A subject is proposed and those who wanted to be part of that exchange would sign up. Someone suggested a cemetery theme and I thought that sounded rather interesting so I signed up. Little did I know it would become an obsession for me. I went to Crown Hill Cemetery and wandered the 555 acres of ground, marveling at the old grave markers and entranced by the family mausoleums with stained glass windows. I drove up to the crown of Crown Hill (one of the highest points in Indianapolis) where the James Whitcomb Riley memorial sits and I looked out over the Indianapolis skyline. I realized that I had entered a peaceful and beautiful place.
The fascination I discovered I had for the older parts of the cemetery made me wonder about cemeteries other than Crown Hill and before I knew it I was stopping for every cemetery I saw as I drove around. I used to tease that I needed a bumper sticker that said, “Caution: Stops for Cemeteries.” I had a friend in Cleveland who knew of my fascination, so when I visited her once, she took me to Lakeview Cemetery where I fell in love with some of the statues and mausoleums. Another time I was headed out to Boston to visit my son and his girlfriend. His girlfriend set up a day to go window shopping in some very exclusive stores. I said, “Please, I would much rather visit the cemeteries!” Boston is much older than Indianapolis and I knew they had different grave markers than we have. I was right! One of my favorite photos came out of Boston.
Every cemetery and every marker tells our history. It is fascinating to see what iconography was important back in the 1700′s and how it has changed through the following centuries. The iconography reflects our view of the afterlife during that particular time in history. From the skull and crossbones of the past, to the cherub with wings, to the draped urns and female angels, and up to today’s laser inscribed images of deer or mountains or whatever happens to be the deceased’s passion, our history is captured on those headstones.
That is what fascinates me; the history and the stories inscribed on the headstones, but also the peacefulness of the cemeteries themselves. Not many people go to a cemetery to find peace, but I do.
I have a Flickr set of some of my cemetery photos.
143/365 Sentries at the Cemetery
143/365
I left the abandoned high school in an agitated state of mind. I wonder if it’s because for two days I had been exploring abandoned buildings, one being an insane asylum and the other an abandoned high school that no one noticed was even there. Perhaps the disrepair started to mess with me. Perhaps the invisible high school and, by extension, my invisibility unnerved me. Or maybe it was the swing set creaking in the non-breeze that spooked me. (I didn’t tell you about the swing set—no breeze, but the swing would occasionally move as if someone brushed against it.) Yeah, ok, so my state of mind was in a weird place and I needed to remove myself from it all.
So what do I do?
I go to a cemetery.
Go figure.
121/365 Senescence
Senescence
Senescence. Such a strange word but one I love. A word full of mystery and whispering decay. Not terrible decay but natural decay. Senescence is growing old, but more than that. Senescence is the decline after the peak. I look forward to senescence and in looking forward I am preparing today to accept it. So easy. So difficult.
I am not perfect. I accept this. I have a physical imperfection that came with birth. Most people don’t see it even though it’s right there on my face looking at them. Because it is such a part of who I am, though, I decided to honor it with an art project. It perfectly portrayed my goal to age gracefully by accepting who I am today (and tomorrow, and all the days forthcoming).
I took all that I loved and created a montage of images, which you see above. I love cemetery photography; there are two cemetery images blended in the background. I love the imperfection I was born with and made it the focal point. And I love distressed images, images with lots of texture. Texture adds depth and character. Together with the concept of aging gracefully, I created Senescence.
On the Wall
I framed it behind an old, weathered door frame with glass insets that I found at a salvage store. I don’t know how the glass survived but it did. It is a heavy piece but it hangs prominently on a wall in my apartment.
Below is the original photo. I asked a dear friend to take this photo for my art project and he obliged. The wind whipped through and before I could move hair out of my eyes, my friend pressed the shutter release. Perfect.
121/365
88-89/365 Non-Event vs BIG EVENT
Bordered by BIG EVENT photos on Flickr, these two photos seem rather mundane in comparison. I almost didn’t post them because they looked rather small and inconsequential juxtaposed next to and surrounded by the BIG EVENT. My brain is still fixed on the BIG EVENT because I’m going back to the BIG EVENT today, so it is very difficult for me to jump from the BIG EVENT excitement to…well…these non-events.
88/365
89/365
And that’s a shame because they have their own stories to tell.
I leave you with two non-events for the time being while I now get ready to head back out for the BIG EVENT to bring back more BIG EVENT photos to completely make these two non-event photos inconsequential. Sigh.
October is for Cemeteries
The ground is strewn with cast-off color as trees raise their skeletal limbs to the sky, twisted and grieved. October is for cemeteries. Over the years I have visited many cemeteries and captured their many personalities. The following are just a few of my favorites:
Throughout the rest of this month, I will be uploading cemetery photos to my Flickr account. Please visit.
