A Loss for Words [or] Words Are Not Enough…

August 18, 2006 | 1:25 AM

I have to admit I’ve been slack on my posting. Maybe it’s because every time I’m introduced, people tack on “he has a blog.” Maybe it’s because I’ve been busy. Maybe it’s because like most of New Orleans, I’m finding myself hitting that 2 month mark of frustration and my anger is rising. No doubt my patience is worn thin, and I can feel the tension mounting within me. It’s not that I’m unusually angry. Or maybe it is. My family has always known I have a small angry angsty kind of side. But when I’m alone- I mean not around a large group of people, being my loner-type- that’s when I feel most at peace. So that I’m still feeling frustrated and angry when I’m alone just makes me, well, more frustrated.

Today, one of my professors called transparency “foolishness” but honesty and openness “wise.” I’m hoping this isn’t too transparent, but mostly honest. It’s not easy living here, regardless of what one of my friends recently said. I think if you have an ounce of compassion in your heart and you see the things I do every day, then you can’t let yourself become complacent. It’s no Indonesia post-Tsunami, but it’s sure as hell not suburban Fort Worth either.

I keep asking that my friends in other cities would pray for us here. Some say, “when the Lord puts it on my heart, I’ll pray.” Some promise they will, but I sense they often forget. I know because I feel it. Just like I feel the raw emotion of the people here in the air. It’s not the humidity. It’s frustration, anger, depression, and pain. I don’t care what anybody says, these are not positive emotions. They’re killer. So we hear about that Times-Picayune photographer who snapped and drove down Napoleon trying to commit suicide by cop. So we hear about people flipping out and killing themselves. So we find out that the depression rate has spiked as we get closer to the one year anniversary, and that the suicide rate has tripled. But man I know you’re praying for us, as the Lord leads you to.

Maybe I’m not at a loss for words after all. Maybe I just had to sit down and start typing. Maybe I just needed enough of this frustration to well up inside me and spring forth like a fountain of sorrow. Poetic, I guess. My friend James who works at Rue De La Course on Magazine Street took Clint and me to the Little Miss Sunshine premiere in Kenner tonight. I don’t think it’s coming out anytime soon, but I knew when I saw the previews on tv that I needed to watch it. It’s about a massively dysfunctional family. I won’t really talk about it until it’s on dvd, so I guess we’ll get to it in a year or so. But I will say that it reminds me a lot of New Orleans. No matter how jacked up we all are and how much we try to cover it up, we do all have issues. And sometimes we cover it up with goals that in the end come crashing down around us, so that we have to, in one deep breath, let it all out.

I think maybe it’s in these moments we’re the most honest before our Creator.

It’s Friday now. It has been for a little over an hour. I spent a little time in Uptown tonight and ate with the guys at The Boot near Freret Street. Pretty empty. Today, I guess, I have to go down there and look for a job. I’m hoping for a job at an art gallery, bookstore, or something to that effect. The problem is that I’m not a super-avid reader, and I know little about art except for what looks cool to me. The lingo may be a problem. I’d like to get much better at my photography, so if I found a photo gallery to work in, that’d be great. We’ll see. In case you’re wondering why I’ve been spending so much time in Uptown, you should know several things. First, it’s one of the few places that doesn’t look like Filmore Avenue. Second, I’m now a part of this community of faith called Sojourn. I’m transitioning away from Edgewater over the next couple months. Third, I like it down there. In some ways it reminds me of where I grew up in Mobile. It works. And it gets me into the real world again. Where I feel the pain again. Where I feel the emotion. Where I can’t grow numb. Where I am forced to face my Creator in an honest way again.