Carnival Season.

The 2026 Carnival Season in New Orleans

Every year Carnival feels a little different.

Some years it’s chaos. Some years it’s escape. This year it felt like clarity — though I didn’t realize that until the season was almost over.

Going into Carnival I was exhausted. Work had been heavy, the holidays lingered longer than they should have, and creatively I felt stuck. I was still shooting, but something about it didn’t feel alive.

The Joan of Arc parade was the first crack in that feeling. I showed up with the intention of shooting and ended up running into an old friend I hadn’t seen in years. We walked the route together and caught up while the parade rolled by. My camera stayed in the bag longer than usual. I took a few frames, but honestly none of them were great.

And that was fine.

Not every moment needs to be captured. Some just need to be lived.

That shift carried through the rest of the season. Instead of trying to cover everything, I let myself move through Carnival the way it’s meant to be experienced — sometimes shooting, sometimes just being part of it.

At one point I picked up a 28mm prime lens and committed to using it. The lens forced proximity. If I wanted strong images, I had to step into the chaos instead of observing from a distance. It was uncomfortable at first, but it made the photographs feel more alive. The energy wasn’t something I was watching anymore — it was something I was standing inside.

The music side of Carnival was just as memorable.

Dumpstaphunk kicked things off at Tipitina’s, followed by two nights of Galactic. Seeing those bands during Mardi Gras always feels bigger than a normal show. Tip’s during Carnival has its own energy — sweat in the air, brass bouncing off the walls, the floor shaking under a packed room. Being there with a camera didn’t feel like access or a credential. It felt personal.

Outside of the shows, the season unfolded in its usual New Orleans way. I froze at Krewe Boheme, partied with Mr. Silver at the Valhalla Ball, caught Soul Brass Band bringing the heat, had a tail-waggin’ good time at Barkus, watched Amanda Shaw win the Greasing of the Poles, got my red beans on Lundi Gras, and finally danced in the streets all day on Mardi Gras Day.

Somewhere in the middle of all that chaos I realized something had shifted.

I wasn’t trying to prove anything anymore. I wasn’t chasing every moment or trying to cover every event. I was just showing up when it felt right and letting the moments come to me.

And the work feels better because of that.

Carnival has a strange way of marking time in New Orleans. Every year something changes, even if it’s subtle. This year it wasn’t a big revelation — just the quiet realization that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Grateful to have documented it all.

Can’t wait to do it again next year.