•03/10/2012 • Leave a Comment


“those who hear these sounds forget everything they know and want nothing more ever again”



Le Mécanisme de la Physionomie Humaine. 1862

•02/06/2012 • Leave a Comment


Artificially simulated facial expressions via direct current, Salpetriere Hospital, Paris.  Administered by Guillaume-Benjamin-Amand Duchenne

Winter Wheel approaches…

•01/04/2012 • Leave a Comment


•12/26/2011 • Leave a Comment

G H O S T | F L A G S

•03/04/2010 • 2 Comments

I had heard that “they” had hired some hillbilly types to stand guard over this place 24/7 and was reluctant to go find it. But since it was Superbowl Sunday in New Orleans, it seemed likely that everyone would be getting drunk and watching television. On my way out there I had even passed a few churches that had set up rows of white folding chairs facing a large, white projection screen. If you can’t beat ’em join ’em.

So no problems creeping past the spooky trailer camps near the gates to this wasteland. The first striking thing was how quiet it was. The wind whistled through the vertebrae of a rusted steel roller coaster. This place has a dramatically different aura in silence, compared to the usual sounds of screams and laughter, dated pop music played through tinny speaker horns, the rumbling of machinery capable of firing human bodies off into space at unnatural speeds, sound effects from electronic displays and vending machines, and crying children being embarrassingly reprimanded by their parents (already put on edge after spending triple the amount they had intended on their family vacation). “That’s it. We’re going home.”

It was refreshingly peaceful place to spend a warm afternoon. Devoid of all sounds, smells, and opportunities to buy, the amusement park becomes an alarmingly surreal environment. Especially one in ruins. Something as simple as a wooden crate or electronic control panel, transferred to a cartoon representation, then re-interpreted back into reality seems perverse as it decays exposed to hurricanes and hot Louisiana sunlight. I thought when cartoon things disintegrate they just crack into thousands of tiny pieces and burst into a perfectly conical mound of dust.

•02/19/2010 • Leave a Comment

BATON ROUGE | Krewe de Carlatta

•02/18/2010 • Leave a Comment