One of my last pics, drinking beer with Wayne Curtis after a second line, my fingers reflected in his lens

Learning to make turkey bone gumbo, inadvertently got his JBF Certificate, when I got home dug mine out and framed it, too

Pableaux with Editha and Alexios Rosario-Moore at a crawfish boil on the Sunday before Mardi Gras. An amazing memory. Will love and miss you always, Pableaux.

I was blessed enough to meet Pableaux through one of his many dear circles of friends, including Todd, John, Larry (who we also lost so recently), Dan and others. John and I met, got engaged, adopted two puppies, and bought a house within 9 months. Favorite and prescient Paubleaux comment upon meeting me: "You have a blind spot that exactly matches the size and shape of John Morgan." We were honored, grateful, and buoyed to experience Pableaux's kinship, whether it be over baked beans, at a crazy brunch with him wrestling with our two young sons and somehow photographing them at the same time, taking him up on his "key's under the mat" invite, or through the incredibly vibrant and historic art that he so generously shared. Pableaux, you are universally and deeply missed, loved, and treasured. We miss you.

Me and Pableaux yucking it up at our engagement party

Red Beans and Rice in Pablo Alto — with Pableaux and Flora

Last night, while talking and crying with my wife (who has her own lovely Pableaux  story she may choose to tell) I realized something.  No one I know, including all of the people I introduced Paul to, would ever describe him as "a friend of a friend."  I might have made the introduction, but almost immediately, they became friends regardless of whether I was around or not.  

Pableaux taking Lyla's senior pics. He sent Randall pics of Lyla as a baby last week.

Looking through photos from over 25 years of friendship and this just sticks out to me as quintessential Pableaux. In the kitchen, giant pot of red beans, and Pableaux with a bowl of rice, looking at me, like "Come and get some." There's that smile hidden beneath that bowl, but I can see it in his eyes, the raised cheeks and the upturned eyebrows. I have so loved reading everyone's stories and seeing the photos—so many photos of the guy who took photos! I'm trying to smile, man, I really am, but damn it if the tears won't stop. Love you, Pableaux.

Pableaux showing Degas’ ballerina how it’s done

Pableaux cutting the rug with Cat at her wedding — with Pableaux Johnson and Catherine McCarthy

Pableaux & Eric

I am gutted by the news that his cousin Betsy shared with me yesterday. Never in a million years would I have thought, when she texted me in the afternoon with the words "I have very sad news that I wanted you to know before you saw it online," that it would be of Pableaux's sudden passing. Paul - always "PJ" to me - was a force to be reckoned with... a gentle but indomitable spirit who had a way of making each of us feel like we were the only person in the room, even if we were in a crowd of hundreds. He and my brother Scot were roommates for a few years in Austin. They were a little like Oscar and Felix - with the addition of fabulous smells coming from the small kitchen of their rental house. And he was the one person who almost converted Scot from being a card-carrying vegetarian to a full-blown, bona fide gumbo aficionado. When I was in my 20s, I was invited to a wedding and was reluctant to go solo.  PJ stepped in and graciously filled the role of knight in shining armor. Somehow, he and I managed to have the most fun of anyone there, even the bride and groom. You would have thought we were at a Mardi Gras parade, not a bare bones Lutheran cookies-and-punch-only afternoon reception. The fact that he's no longer here doesn't seem real; perhaps it will never will. One tribute I read described him as "chief ambassador of [New Orleans'] spirit of joy, celebration, and generosity." For me, it was even more personal. He was an ambassador of humanity, of all the qualities that so many of us aspire to have and that are sorely lacking in our world today. I will miss you, my sweet friend. I will raise a glass to you and "make more rice." Sending my sincerest condolences to the entire Hebert clan and to all of us who adored PJ. With love and admiration, Lois

What a bittersweet day. We gathered to celebrate my dad’s 77th birthday, starting with an uptown second line—one of his favorite things to photograph. During the festivities, his dear friend, @pableaux, turned to speak with him but suddenly collapsed. My nephew, along with another lady, performed CPR while I held his hand for comfort, but sadly, he passed away. Though I never had the chance to speak with him, my dad always spoke so highly of him. It was obvious that he was deeply loved by the people of New Orleans. 

Sending love to Pableux's kin and his people whose hearts are breaking with his passing - and what a large number that is. His memory is already a blessing.  

We didn't know each other well, but his generosity of spirit meant I always got a warm hug at a second line, a picture, a sense of belonging to his community. Some lights just shine so bright.From the memories y'all are sharing and my own, I am taking these powerful lessons in how to live right: show up, spread your joy, do what you do with purpose and ethics, practice the art of hospitality, and maintain an open heart and home to strangers and friends alike.

What a good and beautiful man.  What a life so fully lived.

Brotherman,

If you were going to leave too damned early, thank God we met early in this go round. 40 years is not nearly enough, but I'll take it. Most of the pictures I have of you are actually pictures of my boys and those I love most, and you were top of that list. You, more than anyone I've ever known, saw straight to the beauty and the light in anyone and everyone you met. You didn't just take  photographs. You gave everyone the gift of being seen by a true, generous heart. Right now I'm praying for all of us in this WTF?! moment. And more I'm praying that you felt just a little of how much we loved you and counted on the gift and the blessing you were and are to each and every one of us.

Love you, boy  

xo, T

It was incredibly sad to wake up this morning to a world without Pableaux in it. He’s one of the few who left an indelible stamp on the world, and made it a much better place with his warmth, generosity, wisdom, and irrepressible energy. I plan to continue to honor him and keep his spirit alive with more warm hugs, more connections with friends, and meaningful conversations over great home cooked food. I’m so grateful for the time that I had with him, even if it was much too short. He was the thread that connected me to most of the important people of my life. Eating some red beans tonight in his honor; after all, it is a Monday.

Favorite Pableauxism: “Put your heart into it and keep it there.“ I had a postcard he made with this motto on my bulletin board for decades. 

Pablo in high school at a speech tournament. He would always sing the tiger theme song from Winnie the Pooh due to his bouncy happy nature.

I met Pableaux in New Orleans in 2011, as Bryan Mason and I got ready for TypeCon. Pableaux, laughing, told me I looked like a cop and guided us to breakfast at a friend’s new restaurant. The food was delicious, but what I remember most is how Pableaux made me feel welcome, and the strength and generosity of his joie de vivre. As we left breakfast, Bryan gifted me a book written by the proprietor, which kindled in me a new appreciation for cooking. I kept in touch with Pableaux, who encouraged me by sharing guidance and recipes, including an article he wrote. Shared this on my blog, too: https://tbrown.org/notes/2025/01/27/pableaux/

I met Paul when he lived in Austin and we figured out we had actually gone to high school together in New Iberia. That cred got me an instant invite to his legendary dinners/parties/food-for-alls. He was so funny, engaging and just wonderful to be around. If you had a bad day, or you were just in a bad mood, that was no match for Pableaux. You’d be laughing soon. And the food...OMG, the food. I must say I was not too happy when he left Austin. But NOLA was where he was meant to be, that much is for sure. My heart goes out to his family and his many friends. Gone too soon.