Nawlins Bounce!

Posted on May 4, 2008 by Varg

When “New Orleans” is entered into YouTube and the search is sorted by relevance. This video appears first.

Second? Bounce baby bounce!

6 thoughts on “Nawlins Bounce!”

Lisa says:

May 5, 2008 at 2:35 am

Lawd, lawd! Why did you go and do that??

Bounce was the bane of my neighborhood before the storm, where the weekends often brought hours upon hours of the changeless beat and repetitive chanting, not to mention a lovely view of some serious booty poppin’ on the porch across from my kitchen window. Great entertainment for the whole family. (It took a good year to get little Rachel to stop doing it. It was hilarious and at the same time horrifying, two reactions that only encouraged her to continue.)

At least this video wasn’t like some of the others I’ve seen where there was some excess baggage swinging with the booty.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=9hOkLEDAjZ4
Varg says:

May 6, 2008 at 10:36 am

Whoa! The young lady in your link has obviously been practicing. I couldn’t even read the word “pink” a few times.She loses point for no handstands though. 🙂
Lisa says:

May 6, 2008 at 5:54 pm

Young lady??? You’d better look again…
Varg says:

May 6, 2008 at 8:58 pm

Is it a fella?
Lisa says:

May 8, 2008 at 12:11 am

I do believe so. Look at the mirror and check out his face, the absence of a rack and when he turns, toward the camera at some point, you can see the package. Nonetheless, he’s got some mad booty-poppin’ skilz.
Varg says:

May 8, 2008 at 12:28 pm

Well, based on the bounce itself he is quite good.

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Rejoice!

I say that a lot. I sign many pieces with it. I do this because I believe our lives are a true happenstance. A brilliant occurence from nothingness. We are so rare. We are so unlikely. And simply being born isn’t enough. From there we must survive, endure. So each morning, after our Sun departs and is reborn again. Please, for the sake of your ancestors and the Universe in general, hoist that cup of joe up and say, “Rejoice.”

Ours is a soulful existence. No matter how many McMansions, polyester fabrics, auto-tunes, modified foods and social networks we surround ourselves with, we are all still native, passionate beings made of ancient matter. We are organic and we have soul.

Wood also has a warm, soulful quality. Wood has a memory. It retains smells, traumas, events. It even has a calendar. This is why I have chosen it as my medium, for its old soul. I like to think the wood in my work is in its third incarnation. First a tree, then a home and now art. If you have a room that needs a little soul, get a piece. A room can never have enough soul.

My inspiration and subject matter comes from many sources, among them: Humanism, old ballads, trickster tales, flora and fauna, science, myths and folklore, stringed instruments, brass bands, amber spirits, lady vocalists, general relativity and quantum mechanics. Some of my pieces are there just to make a short, simple statement about what’s important in life. Some are more diffuse and abstract in meaning. A personal drama, an enduring line from a poem or novel, a poignant song lyric, the legacy of an important person, a fleeting thought … these are the subjects of my art.

I use hearts often because they are a very abstract way of depicting the human soul without also employing the very subjective human form. The symbolic heart is an apt representation for a person’s experience and essence. A body can immediatly conjure happiness, sorrow, youth, age, anger, bliss. These emotions can get in the way. Sometimes it’s simply about the experience.

I am the son of a sailor and a social worker, the grandson of a gypsy, a dancer and a nurse. I spent my youth moving from port city to port city, watching a lot of road go by and reading World Book Encyclopedia. After my parents settled down on the Gulf Coast, I was a miscreant youth, destroying cars and taking the wrongs things too seriously and the right things not serious enough. Eventually I began replacing my imagination with experience.

I will use any salvaged wood but prefer swamp cypress and longleaf heartwood pine.

I despise waste. Particularly the waste of organic matter. Trees are magnificent. They were here before we arrived and they’ll be around after we are gone. I’m making an effort to save as much wood as possible. Creating art is fun too. But beyond communicating with folks, but beyond making money ad providing for myself, beyond rescuing flooded parts, beyond reveling in the ethereal aroma of heartpine that hasn’t seen the light of day in 400 years, beyond all that, I am trying to make a simple comment on waste.