I went to New Orleans recently, in part, to show a new friend [Kim] around who had never been. Midway through our drive, the clouds thickened and the weather threatened to storm. “Rain on, we’ll cry together“, I thought. Once we parked, we had just enough time to unload the car and get into the hotel before the first round of cold winded rain whistled through the streets. It didn’t last long that first night and we were able to enjoy the blur of bars, drinks, and beaded missiles that had us maneuvering down Bourbon Street as if we were in the Matrix. I thought you were supposed to, well you know, show the goods before you got the beads. No way, these people were ruthless. Startled as my shoulder took a hit, I inhaled a deep breath glad it wasn’t my face, and that’s when I heard this Hulk Hogan voice, “Hey Yoooouuuu. Show us your #$%&” — Apparently it is unsportsmanlike to throw the beads back.

The next day we set out on foot, umbrellas out of hand, to see all corners of the French Quarter. That’s when New Orleans really cried on us. She was locked and loaded, poured for hours and this is what I like about Kim, she’s just down for anything. We stayed out in the slop, sprinting from awning to awning, finally scored some raincoats [I was wishing I’d had mine from Asia] and I pulled my camera out from time to time. We met a guy in the middle of that stormy weather named Cleveland. He makes bracelets using an old basket weaving technique. I’ll be rocking those in 2014. We skirted around Jackson Square and into Cafe du Monde to taste heaven, were befriended by a few kind souls at LaFitte’s [the oldest bar in New Orleans], hid our full drinks in the bushes outside the Dungeon [this place is a game changer for the night], and drug everything white that we could into the black light room there. We checked out a few awesome places and learned of many more from our new friend Abraham, a native. Being back in New Orleans was bittersweet for me, having only been once before. Sometimes your mind remembers things one way and when you go back to that place, it can be very different as those new memories fade out old ones. These photos are a bit late, as I have had to get my mind right and gather the patience to process the pure photo editing workflow of HDR = time consuming. I hope you enjoy New Orleans in HDR the same way I did once I finished assembling this post. It is a favorite post to date and I can’t wait to go back. Can’t forget the lyrical love: