Lunch @ Houmas House

Today my mom took me to Houma's House for our yearly birthday luncheon.  We had crab cakes, arugula salad, sweet potato fries, crawfish, crawfish curry soup and iced tea over looking the gardens.  The year really went in a flash but have written some of the best music I've done to date.  It's nice to be in the sultry heat and let the melodies of the past soothe knowing fall is around the corner.

Eating here is all about the walk to the restaurant.  The sound of rolling water from the water falls and fountains and the smell of jasmine. 

Bill Cunningham New York...

"If you seek beauty, you will find it"-B.C.

Last week in NY we went to see a documentary on Bill Cunningham at the IFC Theatre.  While I had heard of Bill and read his section of the times, I had no idea about the man.  I was basically going to be with my wife and good friend Oliver.  I knew it was going to be good but man did I get hit over the head.  The simplicity of this mans life and the passion in which he lives it is so inspiring.  

Cunningham dropped out of Harvard in 1948 and moved to NY, where he initially worked in advertising. He then quit his job and started his own hat company until being drafted in the army.  Upon returning from the war, he began his career as a writer for the Chicago Tribune.  During his years there he contributed to fashion journalism, introducing Americans to Azzedine Alaia and Jean Paul Gautier.  While working at the Tribune he began taking photos on the streets of NY.  As a result of a chance photograph of Greta Garbo, he published a group of his impromptu pictures in the Times in 1978, which soon became a regular series.

Bill in his French Chore Coat.  I have one on order.

It was so great to see a modern man living in simplicity.  He lived in the old artist studios in Carnegie Hall up until last year.  He slept on a cot, surrounded by file cabinets filled with the history of New York fashion from the past 50 years.  He eats one meal a day, doesn't have a cell phone and is invited to every party in town.  He doesn't except pay checks because he wants control over his work.  What an ode to the path of integrity!

Euterpe & Barber.....

Last night I had a dream that I was the proud owner of a place called Euterpe & Barber, where I groomed gentleman and told and collected stories.  The place was impeccably designed with a beautiful espresso machine and a bar.  There was Hemingway waiting for Fitzgerald to finish his shave as he scribbled notes before heading off to the Jockey club to have another drink before the races.  Ms. Euterpe was reading her scrolls, hanging from the walls exuding her silent music.  

Each patron would whisper a different note of the melody in my ear before leaving and in the evenings I would weave them all together as I swept up the place and poured a skotch.  It was all like it was in the books about the 20's in Paris but it was 2013 New Orleans just after the crash of the market place.  Ms. Euterpe had one rule.  No one could enter who was pursuing a gold watch from the corporation.  

Norman Mailer came in for a trim and requested I keep a secret, "Hipsters have the best orgasms!"

FSC Barber, San Francisco

FSC Barber, Greenwhich Village New York

New Orleans French Film Fest.....

Gainsbourg: a Heroic Life  

Last night I went to the beautiful Prytania theater for the opening night of the French Film Fest and saw Gainsbourg: a Heroic Life and was so engulfed in the picture I never wanted it to end.  I wanted to be with him as long as I could.  This is a must see.  This guy was not only a talent but a great visionary.  A very brave soul!  

Wax Sealed Envelopes.....

Don't you miss waxed sealed envelopes?  Wax seals reminds me of my love affair with the piano in the rolling hills of Mississippi when i had the best professor anyone could ever ask for.  Dr. MacMillan was the person who set my feet on the musical path and wouldn't let me turn away from it.  He heard something in my novice playing that made him push me to continue.  I remember going into his office before the first day of the semester to let him know that I'm dropping his class.  This was going to be one on one training and I was frightened not coming from a musical background.  He told me to sit at the piano and he slowly lifted the piano lid and my heart was pounding.  I played Beethoven's fur Elise on the Steinway and was swept away by the sound.  I forgot where I was and went off into the hills and then I came back at the end of the piece. He said, "Dustan, why do you want to quit my class?" I said, "Doc, I'm scared!"  To this day we laugh about that day.

This morning I was sipping my coffee and heard Beethoven and then I thought of playing Moonlight Sonata.  I began to scroll through sheet music online and found it.  I took my computer to the piano and began picking the notes out.  As I was squinting at the page to find the notes that were drifting from the cleft, my teachers hand strolled across the page scribbling notes.  He would count and tap on my shoulder as I would try to distinguish the left and the right.  His wife was a nurse and worked the night shift, so I would often spend a few nights a week listening to classical music and learning more about the piano.  It was classic mentoring.  I would take those lessons and run with it to the piano lab and work on things over and over with no end in mind.  I wasn't trying to learn these pieces to go perform in public.  I    was learning these for myself, to feed that hunger inside that wouldn't go away.

As I finished off another espresso I thought, how do we forget such passions?  And then I realised, I didn't forget it, it just directed my path.  That lustful feeling wasn't just for the piano, it was music and melody.  With this thought Phillip Glass' "The Hours" film score came on the radio and my heart was pounding, the rolling hills were there, Ms. Frances' Mint Julips and Fuzzy navels were there, then it hit me. I still have this life.   I used to write to Dr. MacMillan and we'd reminisce about those times and seal the envelope with the wax seal.  One line of the Moonlight Sonata at the piano and all this came flooding in.  I think I'm gonna keep this feeling around.  The funny thing is, when I googled Phillip Glass, I recognized him.  Not recognized him like I've seen him on TV, but more like I've bumped into him on the street or maybe heard is laughter in the cafe while living in New York.  I'm sealing this one on this beautiful Saturday morning with a lovely blood red wax.  The image is a swan, a musical note, or winding path that goes wherever you want it to go.....

Writing in the Woods....

We took to the woods

And it led us to the flowers

Why don't you write a book

Tell me something that I should, know

Like how to make a living

Or how to grow a mus...tache

Isn't it difficult to live in their world

Isn't it difficult to believe in their world

When we are, butterflies skipping on flowers,

flowers...flowers...flowers....

Le Gitane was the queen

On the pages of the screen

She was in love when she took that train

On her way to Smith & Flame

On her way to Smith & Flame

Isn't it difficult to live in their world

Isn't it difficult to believe in their world 

When we are, butterflies skipping on the flowers,

flowers....flowers....flowers.........

Fair Folks and a Goat...

Fair Folks & a Goat have a very inclusive and fresh approach to art and design that integrates notions of inspiration, community, and optimism.  They have two locations one in New Orleans and one in New York.  On many occasions we have gone to their events and have met many great people from all over the world choosing to make their creative lives in New Orleans. On a recent night we sat in the garden with Arcade Fire blasting from the speakers drinking wine and cutting up and I couldn't help but feel that this place was going to be one of the hotbeds for the new bohemians of New Orleans.

NY location