The Tragic Loss of Artist Rudy Rowell
Beth Ribblett
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"Coffee and cigarettes. Low slung hats. Film noir. House bands. Dark bourbon. Road side bars. Muddy delta roads. Fried catfish. Fat Mama's tamales. Rainy mornings. Summer front porches. Blues. Soul. R&B. Lost at mardi gras. Mysterious tattoo. Beignets. Bloody marys. Wrinkled tuxedos. Jazz fest gospel tent. Sunday brunch mimosas. Graceland. Pensive. Poignant. Family proud. Piney woods. Southern accent. Old money. Natchez azaleas. Chicken-strapped crab traps. Small town Mississippi. In the deep south, atmosphere is destiny. Heat. Humidity. Water. Wind. Wet. Sticky. Hurricanes. Our unique cultural experience dictates the high style in which we survive. My art is my atmosphere and my experience. It resonates with those that have the same tension in their souls- no matter how it got there."
-Rudy Rowell