A few years ago the since-shuttered New Orleans Darkroom held a call for entries for a professionally juried, themed exhibit titled “Peek – The Lingerie Show.” I was interested, to be sure, not the least of which was because the juror was internationally renowned photographer Debbie Fleming Caffery, whose breathtakingly evocative, ethereal images of Acadiana sugarcane fields in Louisiana have been exhibited across the world from the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, D.C., to the Photo Gallery International in Tokyo, Japan.

The prospect of having one’s work judged by a photographer of this calibre is a double-edge sword. A rejection kicks your ego to the curb and affirms the little tape that plays in your head (well, at least mine) that says you're not good enough, not smart enough – simply not enough. But if the flip-side of the coin wins the day, you get to have your work appear in a professionally curated exhibit alongside hifalutin national and international photographers. You fist-bump everyone within arm's reach till the suns comes up.

But the deadline for submissions (each entrant was allowed to submit five images) was looming, plus I had no model and no venue for the photo shoot much less a concept.

It was while driving through a patch of rural Louisiana one Saturday afternoon that I began noticing the wonderfully dilapidated, abandoned homes by the roadside – the stuff shooters searching for “atmosphere” dream about on their day off. On several occasions I stopped the car to peek inside a few of the buildings even though they were tucked on private property.

That's when the idea hit me (and it’s not an entirely novel one, I’ll grant you): a woman attired in distressed, second-hand lingerie set amid the shadowy decay and patina-rich environs of an abandoned wooden house. Sort of “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” meets rural Southern poverty. Fine, but where do I find my model much less such a suitable structure at this 11^th hour?

When I mentioned the concept to my long-time dear friend Judy Appel, she immediately volunteered to model for the shoot and to hit the local Goodwill store with me to search for just the right kind of “distressed” lingerie I had in mind.

But what of the venue? I couldn’t simply set up a shoot in someone’s abandoned house much less run the risk of rats and poisonous spiders (not to mention the local sheriff) potentially setting upon both model and photographer.

That is when I remembered my good friend Bill Hyland, an 11^th-generation Louisianian and historian who is also executive director of Los Isleños Museum Complex (www.losislenos.org), located in lower St. Bernard Parish about 45 minutes from New Orleans. The museum preserves and promotes the culture of the original Spanish settlers in Louisiana (who began arriving from the Canary Islands, hence the term “Isleños,” in the mid-1700s), as well as their modern-day descendants.

Equally important, this not-to-be-missed museum is home to historic and architecturally significant Isleños homes and structures relocated to the grounds during the past quarter century. While most have been painstakingly restored to reflect how they might have looked back in the day, there is one building (my personal favorite) that remains thus far thankfully unrefurbished. And, yes, it is “patina rich and full of shadowy decay.”

I rang up Bill to ask his permission to use the house for the photo shoot, explaining the "lingerie" theme of the exhibit.

"Just so long as you won’t be shooting anything pornographic,” Bill said matter of factly.

Besides being a brilliant attorney and adroit storyteller, my "Isleño godfather" (more on this and Bill in a future blog) has devoted his life to being both a steward and guardian of southeast Louisiana's rich Spanish heritage.

I assured him the photo shoot would be strictly G-rated.

As much as I was inclined to rig a phalanx of off-camera strobes for the shoot, I discovered after a little experimentation and a lot of trial and error that there was simply no improving upon the atmospheric natural light the old house offered (although I know this smacks of blasphemy to strobists everywhere). As addicted as I have become to off-camera lighting, this was one instance in which illumination au naturel worked best. The simplicity and naturalness of the poses are testament to how well Judy and I worked together (our first time).

Of the images I submitted to be juried for the exhibit, the following is the one accepted for “Peek – The Lingerie Show." What I like best about this photograph is how the backlit lingerie creates an alluring silhouette of Judy's leg while light pushing through a crack in the wall planks helps illuminate the far-right corner of the floor. The natural patina of the wood is a photographer's dream.

Yes, I told her.

“I think you can quit your day job,” she said softly.

I think I felt my feet levitate in a David Blaine sort of way.

Yet without a little help from my friends, Judy Appel and Bill Hyland (and, of course, Los Isleños Museum Complex), the shoot and success I enjoyed from having one of my photographs selected for this exhibit never would have been possible. To both of them I owe a debt of gratitude.

And, of course, a fist-bump. Or something like that.