Updates have been few and far between lately on account of me still wrestling with my library of over 36,000 photos. I’m hoping to use “this photography thing” to help supplement my main income, or at the very least bring in enough money to pay for itself. God knows photography is no cheap endeavor, and it’d be nice if it pulled its own weight once in a while.
The main reason for my return to the Philippines was to pick up my grandmother, who has been living in Cebu for the last year or so. We had sent her back from the States to escape the Winter, and illness had prevented us from bringing her home sooner. Said picking up has hit a bit of a snag, as apparently her being in the Philippines for over a year (due to aforementioned illness) resulted in her Green Card being invalidated.
Two old and dear friends recently asked me if I could reshoot their engagement photos. They had tragically lost them in a hard drive crash (protip: it’s not enough to back up, you gotta do it often) and were hoping to have new ones for their upcoming vow renewals.
I don’t know what it is about “shooting reflection” self-portraits that make them such a popular cliché. They’re pretty much the one-man version of the “taking a picture of someone taking a picture of you” cliché that we all love so much.
I’ve been playing with shooting from the hip again lately. It’s a bit of an art, because not only do you have to properly frame and compose the shot, but you have to keep the camera still, which is tougher than you’d think because you also have to shoot clandestinely. Well, maybe not “have to,” but it’s part of the fun of shooting from the hip–capturing people when they don’t realize they’re being captured.
Last night was the Natuzzi event I mentioned in my last entry. For some reason, I always find myself best connecting with and having most fun with the people behind-the-scenes than anyone else. Which isn’t to say that the partygoers aren’t nice enough people, just that I seem to have more in common with the salt of the earth than the crème de la crème.
This is Rick. My sister took me to FAO Schwartz to put him together, a birthday gift months in the making. Like me, he enjoys a good Irish whiskey from time to time. Perhaps too much.
Today’s update will be little more than this shot of a random traveler spotted in Penn Station. He’s not the real Epic Beard Man, but as the original is more of a Beard Man who happens to be Epic and this guy is more of a Man who happens to have an Epic Beard, I figure the distinction is enough to let it pass.
When I die, I hope they use the photo from my “About Me” page, or something similarly silly. I don’t take myself seriously in life, I’d hate to start after I was dead.
