If at all possible, I talk with someone who lives with the disability I’m researching. That isn’t always feasible, so I also use medical journals, and documentation from the period about which I am writing to see how the disability in question was managed. For example, what we call PTSD nowadays was referred to as “shell shock” during the Napoleonic/ Regency era … and I was able to draw on information concerning how it was treated for Clytie’s Caller.
I researched mental health treatments for women in the 19th century extensively when I wrote In The Eye of The Beholder and In The Eye of The Storm, because one character dealt with what was called melancholia. I wanted to know how that ailment was managed. There are two characters with physical disabilities in those books as well, and I use treatments of the time to describe their situations.
I love this, not only for the image but for the cultural insights in the text (NOLA and photo shoots alike … my husband is often the same kind of assistant described here for his buddy, who is a photographer). Nicely done all the way around.
A picture made on the way to someplace else. This time, I was walking on Bourbon Street near Jean Lafitte Blacksmith Shop, which is really a bar. I was waiting for the action to start. And, looking for a picture or two. People were wandering around everywhere. On the sidewalk. On the street. In the patio. In the bar. A few minutes earlier, while I was looking for a place to park, I passed this same place and noticed four people posing for a group shot. In front of the bar. They were all naked. I’m willing to bet they were tourists. They would never do that at home. They would do it in my home.
That’s the thing.
During Mardi Gras we have this terrible reputation of hard partying and nudity. Women baring their breasts for beads. The partying might be on us. But, the public nudity? Nah…