There are some rare times in our lives we’re given exactly what we need, when we need it. I’m deeply humbled, and honored, to say that I’ve just been awarded a residency at A Studio in the Woods, an artist’s retreat just outside of New Orleans, in a natural reserve of bottomland hardwood forest. I’ll be there for six weeks in the autumn, working on a new project, and very occasionally — emphasis on very — returning to New Orleans to give readings and lead workshops. It’s an incredible honor, and could not come at a better time.

The Studio has long held a special place in my heart for the role it played in aiding Michael White’s album Blue Crescent to birth, to my mind one of the finest traditional jazz albums recorded in the past five years. White wrote the bulk of Blue Crescent during his own residency at the Studio after Hurricane Katrina; the thought that I’ll have the same opportunity to concentrate on my work is quieting indeed.

I’ll post more details as they become available, but until then, the Studio website is worth visiting — especially for the opportunity to contribute to their work.

Ashdenizen, the blog of the Ashden Directory, has just published my review of the ongoing Ten Climate Stories exhibition at the Science Museum in London (click through for the link). I’m still saddened by the missed opportunities laced throughout the exhibition, but now that I’m back in New Orleans, do wonder when we’ll see any exhibition of this type in our museums here in the States. Even minus the Sno-Cats.

The Rumpus has posted my account of Super Sunday here in New Orleans, now two weeks ago (click through for the link). If words aren’t your thing, this one’s got pretty pictures. Some of them even move.

I’ve just heard from the judges of the Hippocrates Prize for Poetry and Medicine that a poem, “The Anatomist,” was commended for the 2011 prize, as well as from the editors at the New Orleans Review that a short story of mine, “Reliable Source,” was shortlisted for the Walker Percy Fiction Contest. I’m very humbled by both honors, especially to share the page with so many other writers whose work I respect so much. As for the Review in particular, they do have a way with words, as my friend Nick put it: “I like the sound of ‘semi finals’ better than ‘shortlist’,” he said. “Brings out the sense of a tournament.”

The sixth, and final, dispatch in the Mardi Gras series is now up at the Rumpus (click through for the link). Rumor has it there’s another parade on the horizon for a certain Saint this week: reckon I might just have to sit this one out.