Author: duckshots

Lapsed lawyer. Reader. Photographer. Jewish. Strongly attached to loving, caring, wife-Sharon. Working at remaining relevant. Hoping that my body and mind outlive my dreams. Maybe something I blog will make some sense.

Gregory Heisler at the Bank

We went to an abandoned bank in Greenfield, MA; now there is an oxymoron for an on location shoot. Heisler had previously shown a home-video of making the SI cover shot featuring Sportsman of the Year Derek Jeter. He shoots real people, has a lot of support and uses a combination of great technical skill and creative genius. He can also teach.

Our assignment included using a Pro Photo 10 lighting kit in a different way, illuminating the background with the strobe and ambient light from a window facing the street for the foreground to produce a cover shot and an inside piece. Greg and DT did a test shoot, adding some fake smoke. Then, it was up to us to create a narrative and shoot.

Gino Looks For Bottles

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Saw Gino open the bottle recycling lid looking for bottles. He picks up bottles and puts the proceeds into a bottle that he will use to help people in Greenfield. “The wrong people have all the money.”

Asked if I could take his picture. “You the guy who took the serious picture of lindsey?” Something stops him from seeing her mother. Not going to ask what or why.

Johnny B On Main St Greenfield MA


So, he said he fell. They all do. First time we spoke, usual conversation: “life is good; I will get it together.” Living around. Doesn’t expect to find work. Told him I would send a picture, but he doesn’t do computers or have an address. I will print one and deliver it on the street. “You can find me easy; I ain’t goin nowhere.”

I gave him a dollar. “Can you give me two so I can buy a beer.”

Mike Wallace, Dead at 93

So, when the word went out that I was the Judge who set the bail that released the accused who went to the accusers lob site and shot and killed her, Mike Wallace called to find out if I wanted to be interviewed on 60 minutes. “What would you say that I couldn’t,” my lawyer said. “I will go after the DA and the Governor and the Mayor, ripping them…. Besides, you have not been grilled on national TV by someone like him….”

I chose to remain silent, taking the high road that Judges are supposed to take, never getting out my story, or the real story of the bail decision or the real reasons behind some of my comments and behaviour, reasons that allowed people of color or weak roots to be frisked/harassed/demeaned at will (especially if they didn’t turn snitch), forced accuseds to accept pleas because they couldn’t afford bail (acts which also took away their rights to sue), and prevented defendants due process because by asserting their rights they might be sentenced more severely because their overworked and underpaid public defenders couldn’t afford to tell the whole story, jury trial time being the most expensive the system has to endure.

But it wasn’t because I was afraid of Mike Wallace; I was more afraid of my lawyer and the system. And, for those of you who have seen Hunger Games, I had good reason to be. I got crushed. It couldn’t have been worse.

He might have liked me. After all, he said he wanted to be fair, which is what I always wanted to be.

 

Trinitarian Congregational Church in Northfield MA

So Pastor Lloyd Parrill didn’t enter the Trinitarian Congregational Church in Northfield MA on a donkey. But his message for this Palm Sunday, as he welcomed the beginning of Holy Week, was no different from that delivered by Jesus as he entered Jerusalem, “live in peace and miss no opportunity to help others.” As he left the church, this last time he will celebrate Easter before his retirement, Lloyd gave love to his congregants, and they gave it back to him and his wife, Dottie.

 

 

Pictures of the Powerful

President Obama’s official portrait marked the first time a digital image was used to document his taking office. I want to have the opportunity, at some point in my photographer life to improve the image. The image, done right, should make him look Presidential, highlighting the Washingtonian smile, hiding his flapping ears. Not very imaginative.

Here is another, taken recently, of Mayor Bloomberg. A hand sticks out behind his head. His mouth is skewed. The upper left barks a texture, wasting space within which some useful information could have been included. He has red-eye, what looks like a razor nick and its broad lit. I just cannot believe that this is the best shot the shooter could have captured.

Friends at Red’s Barber Shop

Hard to make friends in a new place. You got to have a job and a place and some commitment to something. Me. I go to school. This distinction earns you so little, unless you spend a ton of money. Even then, people say that you are leaving, leaving behind dollars to use their territory to learn and then, like the proverbial NY comment about not letting the door hit you on the way out, say goodby. Not me. I made friends at the local barber shop, thank you Walker Evans.

So, I go to hang out and talk to the guys. No betta place to talk to the guys than a barber shop. You don’t have to be on any social level. You can be as judgmental as you want, withinreason, so long as it ain’t personal. and, you got to be able to either tell stories or laugh at the stories told by others. A quotable quip, for sure, makes it. But it really better be good.