Today’s bike ride took me down to the Marigny to meet up with S. for some writing and coffee. It is apparently the last warm day for awhile, but I’ll believe that when I feel it. I zipped back Uptown to meet K. for a show. A former student, Miss M., is a dancer, and invited me to see him in Darwin, a show put on by CORBiAN, in final rehearsals before hitting the road for a 44-city tour. I didn’t know what to expect, and I must say I was simply delighted. The puppets were constructed from the stuff usually seen just in glow sticks. They were operated by dancers who disappeared from the stage in the dark. This picture isn’t very good, but it’s not easy to get a good shot in a pitch dark warehouse. I wish I could capture for you the magic of the show. Puppets kept emerging, seemingly from nowhere, and the story–a dinosaur who finds love–was so lovely and kind…it was just a wonderful way to spend an evening. When the show comes to your town, please, please go see it. You won’t be disappointed. I left the hot and empty warehouse happy the world has space for these sorts of creations. And then I hopped on my bike and rode home, feeling the slightly cooler air rush up my skirt.

School in session has meant a whole lot more work. I fear my job is getting in the way of my mindless riding around town. Today, after my commute to and from work, I hopped back on the bike and tooled down to the Marigny for coffee and writing with S. I rode down Chippewa, through the St. Thomas Development. This development has a long history, starting in the 1940s as a whites-only housing project. After integration and a massive decrease in social services provided in the project, it became predominantly black–good old white flight–and one of the most dangerous parts of town. It was razed in the late 1990s, and these new-looking homes were built as a mixed-income development. I was struck while riding today by the odd, out-of-place architecture here. I mean, the houses have many of the features that seem essential to New Orleans architecture: high ceilings for ventilation, iron gates and balconies and porches. But they look so, I don’t know, new. The Development just looks so different from the neighborhoods surrounding it. This picture, for example, looks like it could be the picture on one of those 1000-piece jigsaw puzzles of Americana. But just three blocks from where this picture was taken, I was riding by rusted-out warehouses. Yeah, this is New Orleans.

I got a text from S. this morning asking if anybody wanted to get a bagel or beignets.  She had me at beignets.  I hopped on Rhoda and sped down to the Quarter to Cafe du Monde, listening to that sort of music that makes you feel like it ain’t no sin to be glad you’re alive.  While sitting there inhaling my fried dough, I snapped a photo of this gang of kids waiting to cross Decatur.  They are all wearing matching flag-colored tie-dyed t-shirts, so I’m guessing they were together.  And I’m guessing they were visiting our fair city.  I saw a lot of tourists today, like I always do when being a tourist myself.  It’s funny how some things in a town are put on the tourist list and others aren’t.  When I go for beignets, I always know I’m acting like a tourist.  But I just love fried dough!  Then again, when I ride my bike along Bayou St. John I don’t feel like I’m being a tourist, even though if I visited this town, knowing what I know, I’d definitely make a stop there.  The thing about tourism is that it’s about economics.  The French Quarter feels like it’s zoned just for tourists to spend money while feeling like they’re experiencing “New Orleans.”  I don’t know what authenticity means, but I know the Quarter feels like Paris or New York…in Las Vegas.  But I love tooling around the Quarter on my bike, and today was no different.  We finished our beignets, headed to a couple of coffee shops where I did some writing, and then I headed back Uptown for work.  Another lovely day on the bike.

Today’s ride took me to the coffee shop for some revising, planning, reading, and chatting. It was nice and warm out, and the ride home was delightful. I took Annunciation, and was surprised yet again at how different this city looks from just street to street. This street is what–six or seven blocks from St. Charles? But it just looks and feels so different.  No mansions, but rather rebuilt homes next to decaying ones, potholes and empty lots. I snapped this picture of a lot for sale at Richard and Annunciation. The sign reads, “New Orleans Real Estate.” I’m not sure if that’s a selling point or not at this point. I mean, is property a good investment in Atlantis? Then again, this is some of the highest ground in the city. And the iron structure on the right? That’s a warehouse that’s finally being rebuilt, so it might turn in to something good, like a delicious restaurant. And the if you scratch out the big chimney-thing in the background and focus on the tree and the sky, well, this is a beautiful, beautiful spot. I guess it all depends on your perspective. Today, for me (that shadow at the bottom), this was positively lovely.

It was a rainy day in New Orleans, and I considered taking my car, but I managed to avoid the downpours and rode my bike to work.  After work I headed to Rue de la Course on Magazine Street, my home away from home, my other office.  I spend a rather ridiculous amount of time here, and I usually ride my bike even though I live only a few blocks away.  Thing is, I’d rather take the bike no matter how short the distance, and I’m just used to tooling up to the coffee shop on Rhoda.  One of the loveliest things about this particular coffee shop is its neighborhood feel.  I see the same people here day after day.  Some are writing, others are listening to music or meeting friends or studying for med school exams or grading papers.  We all sit at tables in rows, sometimes chatting, usually occupying that odd space where one finds privacy in the very publicness of space.  It’s different if you sit outside, though.  Outside everyone chats, people stop as they walk by and you see the same dogs and owners at the same times.  And you get to know everybody’s bicycle–and people trick them out in this place.  It feels like home.

It’s that time of year–I’ve got bronchitis. And I’m not happy about it, especially as it is seriously cutting in to my bike time! It is so, so frustrating to not be able to breathe normally and thus not be able to ride normally. Today I just couldn’t take it anymore and went for a short ride down to the coffee shop. I rode briefly on the sidewalk, and looking down at it, I realized that riding has changed what that sidewalk means. As a pedestrian, sidewalks are my safe space, and a sidewalk like this, with its mismatched slabs of concrete, has a certain charm. On my bike, though, I don’t see the slabs, but instead the seams. I need to avoid them with my tire–riding into them or even up against them. This sidewalk is a hazard. Of course, I should be riding int he street, but where in my car the street is largely safe, on my bike it’s a completely different story. I know the potholes, rivets, and waves on my regular route. I’ve got to if I’m going to stay upright on the bike. My class today talked about how many of us take for granted a free ability to move through space safely. Riding a bike completely changes one’s perspective on space; movement has to change and not all routes are safe in the same way. I want to get better. Because I miss that special bike perspective.

Yesterday’s snow was beautiful, but today’s dry, sunny weather was most welcome, even though it was really, really cold.  I hopped on my bike for a ride down to the Marigny to finish some grading.  It felt great to be back on the bike and on a longer ride.  A. lent me a hat that goes over my ears, I put on some gloves, and all in all, the cold really wasn’t too bad.  I was saddened to discover, however, that I forgot my camera.  And I saw so many things today: that house over by Sound Cafe that is falling down has been propped up while the curb out front is painstakingly rebuilt (interesting priorities!), the facade is going up on Victory Theater at the WWII Museum (why is the National WWII Museum in New Orleans?), Glassblowing is happening NOW, and the light was just perfect in the Quarter.  But then I remembered a few things.  I don’t need to take a picture to see what I see.  Sure, but also, more pragmatically, I have a camera on my cell phone.  So I snapped this photo of graffiti on the sidewalk outside the new Orange Couch cafe.  I love the art on sidewalks here in New Orleans.  Street names are embedded in tiles on corners, names are etched in to concrete, and then there are these little graffiti paintings scattered all over town.  You’ve got to pay attention when you’re riding around this place, camera or no.  And I like this picture, because that’s not just a little bit of splash concrete art, but that’s also the shadow of my bike tire.  I love my bike–it’s my bit of art in the city.

It has been really hot in New Orleans lately, but I love it. I used to think I didn’t like the heat, didn’t like the way there’s no way to cool down when it’s hot like that. I was wrong. I love the heat, and I love the way I’m sweaty all the time, just like everyone else, and that the air is almost chewy. And when the rain comes? Well, in other places the rain cools it down, but here it just makes the city steam, my glasses fog, and the sweat stick harder. But not today. Today the rain cooled things off, I think because it was late in the day and the sun was on its way down, no time to reheat this latest batch of moisture. I watched the rain from inside Flora, a coffee shop in the Marigny that A. brought me to. It was lovely to sit and listen as the rain pelted our bikes, knowing it would stop in time for a much cooler and wetter ride home. That ride went awry, but that is for a different blog. Here I simply want to say: it is never too hot to bike, and bring on the rain. I’m thrilled to ride through anything.