Photography Thinks
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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.
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.”
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.
I didn’t think I would feel comfortable in the commercial studio. But I do. The subjects talk back, but not like people. Arthur Tress had the same experience and the same discovery.
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.
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.
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.
So, the story goes that Heisler’s luggage lost its way on some unnamed airline on the way North Carolina via Atlanta to photograph some big ticket exec. Knowing the complications of rescheduling, he and his assistant stopped at a Home Depot and bought a flourescent fixture, two daylight tubes and a shower curtain. They did the shot with a kit that cost less than a C note. Now he teaches lighting, using the same setup, albeit one attached to a light stand by a knuckle and a grill painted black.
Just in case you be wondering, I didn’t submit this, but I should have.
My product piece. Trashed at the final, because the instructor didn’t know where it was taken or what it was. He said it looked like the beginning of a story that ends in a “dui.” I shouldda stuck with Frenchy and Chopin Vodka.
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Miro will bring Burlington good management and a future. He sees into the future and will not repeat the past. Feel good about him being in control and in charge.