Small photo essay from day 2, Paris

 

I took a lot of photos I love today.

But these three are standouts.

Our home away from home

This morning, Tina and I woke up before any restaurants were open for us to have a breakfast.

The French don’t do breakfast like us ‘muricans. They toast a piece bread, slap some jelly on it, brew up some coffee and go on with their day.

So Tina and I found some coffee in our home away from home and shot some interiors of the space.

on the road again

Tina and I are sitting in the Dublin airport waiting for our delayed flight to Paris to board. It was supposed to leave at 10 a.m. local, but now we’re waiting for clearance from Charles de Gaulle — personally — to let us head out toward his airport.

Apparently there are some storms in the area that are backing stuff up.

We’re pretty tired, and I want a shower. I hate the feeling of getting off a long flight and having the stale odor in my clothes and the thin layer of grime that accumulates over the hours.

Since we’re in Dublin, a place I don’t ever plan visiting on any kind of vacation, I feel a certain obligation to have a pint of Guinness. Although I might wait till the return layover. I just can’t bring myself to drink before noon no matter what time zone I’m in.

This was last night’s airplane dinner.

Becky and Luis are meeting us in Paris tomorrow, and I left them a doggy bag of my leftovers in the seat pocket for them to enjoy just in case they are a little hungry on their flight.

You’re welcome.

elephantitis boobies

On Tuesday, Tina and I were driving home from a 12-hour day of photography.

We were a bit spent. We needed to pickup Talulah from daycare, and of course one of the main topics of conversation was that our car had been stolen and a laundry list of things we needed to take care of now that we were free from work.

We exited the parking deck, and headed north on LaSalle, which is a seven lane thoroughfare that — when headed south — ends in the financial district. It’s home to the two-story, rock-n-roll McDonald’s. When headed north, you ram straight into Lake Sure Drive where, what we take to get to our place.

As we drove north, we approached a heavily populated intersection where people turn to hit a highway entry artery. I could tell as I approached, that an African American man was forcing a line of cars to stop at a green light as he crossed in front of them. They were slamming on their brakes. He was throwing his arms up and shouting.

I imagine they were profanities.

I started to lower my window, because — for some reason — I get a big kick out of yelling at people from my car.

And this guy’s timing and our trajectory would put him right near the drivers side of our rented car when we passed. He was a homeless. His hair was matted and dreaded in random spots. It was splotchy salt and pepper. He was wearing a sport coat without a shirt. His bare belly out for us all to admire.

His pants were tattered, stained, wrinkled.

We crossed into the intersection as he reached the turn lane. I was in the next lane and posed no threat of hitting him, but within perfect range to yell something clever at him.

That there. That very moment. That’s when I noticed that his pants were unzipped and wide open. They somehow stayed up around his butt. “Oh shit! That dude’s dick is out!” I said as I started rolling my car window back up.

“What?” said Tina.

“His fucking cock and balls …”

“Holy shit!”

This man — like some African American kamikaze – was forcing cars to slam on their brakes, so that they could admire his elephant-leg sized penis, balls and dreadlocked pubic hair from a stopped position.

What a nice guy.

The Scientific Secret of Strength and Muscle Growth

What if I told you that superhuman strength may be possible in the near future?

Via JMG

The Fstoppers guys and Devin Super Tramp are part of the problem.

This week I noticed two different, very popular photographer organizations reach out to their adoring fans for help with re-branding or re-working their images.

One was Devin Super Tramp. He asked for his fans to rework his YouTube page.

Devin Super Tramp makes his living on creating video content for YouTube. And he wanted someone to offer up their talents — gratis — to help him and his image.

I’ll explain it in more detail, but let me tell you, what Devin Super Tramp did … that was shitty.

And then Fstoppers — a photo blog who obviously sells advertising and has a what appears to be a solid business model — reached out to their adoring fans to re-do their logo brand.

Of course, if your work was chosen, you could win $2000. That’s cool right? But what about all the work volunteered by the 1,499 other submitters?

Well, they get nothing.

Zilch.

Both of these parties work in the field of photography, a field that is getting destroyed by levels of disrespect that make the SunTimes decision to fire its photography staff seem like pudding pie.

Photography, as we know it, is changing so fast. I’m one of the only photographers I know who does it full time. Most people struggle at it as a hobby. And while I’m waiting for a big break whilst making my living at it, I watch aspiring photographers give up their dreams often.

It’s not uncommon for people to think photography is easy. It’s pointing and shooting. Right. So grab your camera and come to my party or wedding.

If you do that, please stop.

Somehow publications know they can get young, hobbyest photographers to contribute their services for free. These photographers often spending WAY more time editing photos to submit to income-based blogs and web sites. And they’re doing it for minimal pay and a byline.

One publication called me once and asked me to shoot a festival — a three-day, many-band event — without so much as a small fee to pay for my travel. My pay would be a byline. I told them outright that they’re disrespecting one art form to promote another, and that’s bullshit. And it’s about fucking time we stood together and fought against the people who think they can get valuable services for fucking free.

But then you have two big names in the industry perpetuating this level of disrespect into the graphic arts community?

Fstoppers should be ashamed and embarrassed. Hey, redo our image — a service that companies pay upwards of $1500 to $10,000 for — and you all do it for us for free! There are others who pay much more for these services.

You know what, F-fucking-stoppers and Devin Fucking Super Tramp, you’re part of the problem.

Fstoppers is ostensibly out to help the photography community. But you’re a fuckup and a failure.

And Devin, I know your new $12,000 camera wasn’t cheap and your income is at least enough to buy it and maintain your gear.

It’s time to grow up and make our communities better, by leading by example. By showing that you’re willing to show those assholes who want us to work for free how we respect the art community as a whole.

Friday Nat Geo Found inspiration

 

Nat Geo Found is one of my favorite spots for inspiration.

Above:

Sightseers park to watch a Stratocruiser taxi across an underpass in Queens, New York, March 1951.

PHOTOGRAPH BY B. ANTHONY STEWART, NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC

I’m stealing Carma back

With a week that was incredibly busy and having our car stolen on Sunday morning, I didn’t feel too much like blogging this week.

Our security had been breached. Our sense of safety was zeroed out. I thought that whomever stole the car was going to use any paperwork in the car to identify us, what we did, and break in.

We don’t keep all our gear at our home, but still. No one else knows that.

Pssssst … Except you.

And in what felt like a movie script, we got our car back. 

how bout these apples

The “el” train — near our house … is pretty at night.

 

 

badass type applied to photos

 

 

My buddy Ryan is getting more into photography.

The passion I know him for is typography. He’s got talent oozing out of his fingertips.

He recently applied type to his photos. Check it out. More here.