Take your protein pills and put your helmet on.
Really?
Photography Thinks
So, went to see primary doc, today. He said, “…, good health. See you in November.” Three weeks ago, saw cancer doc. He said, “…, perfect blood for a person with your kind of cancer. See you in three months.” Not cancer free. Not feeling like I was a young man, but not feeling as bad as I did when I was not feeling good. That was bad.
https://www.nytimes.com/2026/04/13/well/ai-chatbots-cancer.html
I have this kind of cancer. Almost died during treatment. Sharon and the doctor saved me. Sharon screamed through my fog that she needed me and wasn’t ready for me to die. I heard her. Hema (hematologist in cancer patient language) said I was one tough son-of-a- bitch.
I am.
So, I attended a Headshot Intensive Workshop orchestrated by Peter Hurley. Worked my ass off, as did all the others. Two days of lectures, shoots, looking, learning and reflecting.
I was the only attendee who shared prints. Most just showed on the back of their phones. I wish everyone printed. Photos are a truer version of the art of photography. They feel better in your hand. Don’t get lost on the phone. Become more special when framed and hung. And you can get nearer or farther away, feeling the warmth and meaning of
Sharon would not remove her “Soup Kitchen” volunteer hat. SHE doesn’t want thanks or commendations. She is so happy to help to make a difference. And she raised $1,ooo dollars, too.
But here at Morikami, she’s at rest, smiling, looking at the trees, walking in our wooded paradise.
As a photog, all I can do is frame the shot and push the shutter. The camera and the model do the rest.
So, you know I am a portrait photog who shoots people wherever I find them. The accent here sits on the “find”. Some people don’t want to be photographed. Some do it reluctantly only after I apply some people skills. Some readily cooperate and even pose. I will write the next few days about recent experiences and include portraits.
Yesterday during a photo walk with my photo friend Art, this woman with a rollator cruised by. I asked if I could take her picture, holding up camera. She asked the traditional question, “why do you want to take my picture?” I said, “…, because you are beautiful.” She said yes and I shot.
I gave her my card and told her if she emailed me I would send her a file. She said she wouldn’t because she gets too many emails and besides, then I would have her address. Well, I pointed out, “if I were going to steal your identity, you have my card with my picture and address.”
We parted. All I am left with is the image.
Not sure why I buy these, but I can always dream. Just like to get my money back. Well, at least some of the money goes to fund education, though in Florida, where there is censorship and altered history (slaughter of native americans by Trumps favorite president – andy jackson), education and vaccines are not appreciated.
So, you and I aren’t bartenders whose tip depends on filling the glass, dramatically. She doesn’t use built in measurers or shot glasses. She just pours. Sometimes the martini juice reaches above the rim, held together by capillary action. And, her martinis always come with no fruit, vegetable and only a sniff of vermouth (almost bone dry). But the best thing is that I have to go to the glass for the first sip. The martini is undeliverable. Drink it where you find it.
So, I started out at a 10:00 movie which turned out to be Blah movie. Couldn’t hear most of the dialogue. Story did not live up to the reviews. Small Things…. Oh, look what I brought you for Christmas, a new family member. I wondered more about the town’s reaction to the last scene more than the movie itself, which was blah. So, the church takes in girls and works them in a laundry. A girl has become pregnant and is forced to sleep in the coal shed that the main character delivers coal to. He gets bribed to keep the story silent with a cash payment and semi promise that his daughters will be admitted to the Catholic school. In the meantime, he finds out he was raised by a protestant after his mother died unexpectedly. Blah. Blah. And he washed his hands a lot.
Movie give something to think about, but since I couldn’t hear all the dialogue, accents and bad sound, I had to fill in the blanks. Movie has great acting and good cinematography, but was not as suspenseful or exciting as I had hoped.
Then when I could not figure out what I wanted for lunch. Settled for Blah pizza.
Then I went to Doris. Got into a stupid argument with the owner over a $6.95 return of green olives. Picked up a lobster, drank complimentary sparkling and came home to get over the blahs.