In by Michael on May 31, 2013 at 3:43 pm
“Hey Sara, smile a little bit, take a sip.”
“When I mentioned the idea of bringing him here to the jazz club with you and Phil, he laughed.”
“What’s he doing instead?”
“He’s at home. Probably with some buddies, playing cards.”
“I just wish he’d use the front half of his brain sometimes.”
“Sara, you knew this the second that you met him. The guy is a construction worker with an amazing physique and a sense of humor. Don’t be so surprised about the jazz – it’s like getting mad at Walmart in rural Kentucky for not selling sushi.”
In by Michael on May 19, 2013 at 11:10 pm
She sells a lot of paintings.
She meets her clients here and there, at bars and stores.
She sells her art for a lot of money. Each work is a custom piece for a given customer and a given space.
She met her current client, Andrew, on a first class plane ride. Like all her clients, he slept with her several times before the subject of art was brought up.
Andrew pays for her to stay and paint, and as long as she is working on a project for him, she takes on no other clients, and she is his.
In by Michael on May 19, 2013 at 10:27 am
I’ve heard photography described as a distraction, an activity that removes the photographer from the present moment, stifling his enjoyment, detracting from the authenticity of the experience.
This couldn’t be further from the truth.
The photographer is the master of the present. The photographer zooms in to the tiny thing, or zooms out to capture the large perspective of the moment. The photographer is hyper aware of the unfolding movement, color, and lighting all around, so that he can compose and expose it.
A good photographer guides the present and eagerly participates. The deeper you go, the better the photos.
In by Michael on May 9, 2013 at 6:18 pm
I settled into my seat at the cafe and began watching a porn on my laptop. It was a vanilla piece, 1 guy and 1 girl on a couch. No plot, just straight to the action. I’d seen it maybe twice before.
I sat there quietly, waiting for the inevitable untangling of the social fabric around me.
I felt like a social terrorist.
People continued ordering their lattes.
If I would do this, what wouldn’t I do?
A weird guy across the cafe smiled at me. Not sure if it was related.
I’m afraid of people like me.
In by Michael on May 1, 2013 at 12:01 am
Go to the trainstation, jump the turnstile, take those two dollars you saved and give it to the guy playing guitar. And then practice taking photos of him until you get it perfect.
Take boring photos of ugly things.
Don’t ask strangers for permission to take their photos unless you need to.
Take tons of photos of friends but only share the good ones.
Take photos of people, things, moments, places, movement. Take photos of lines, shapes, colors, patterns.
Take photos of everyday, forgettable scenes. These are the genuine moments in life.
Take photos that no one else is taking.