New York fire trucks. Is been a while since I did my last high dynamic range (HDR ) image and for whatever the reason I chose this fire-engine trucks…..why? The blood red paint, the lights, the action , the mental driving on the Manhattan streets……I do not know……. I was just staring at the initial dull image for a good half an hour thinking how to make it”pop”. My mind start drifting, and suddenly I realized that in fact I do not know anything about the people in this fire-trucks. The sweet angel of procrastination strike me and I get in touch with out Googly friend, lots of tech info about the trucks, about the NY firefighter teams, and even some hero stories. But where are the stories of these people, the real people behind the fire-trucks, what they do in their day to day life, what they love, what they hate, what fun means for them, what life means for them. I am not a writer, so maybe somebody else wants to complete the story of this picture. I propose a fair trade, a good picture for a good story, who is up to the challenge?
The Beauty and the Beast. Botswana, Gaborone. Regular photography assignment for the day, shooting beauty/spa commercial pictures. Lots of girls, splashy pool pictures, facials, humidifiers, massages, etc. the whole deal. We were well passed the half of the shoot and start preparing the massages beds’ .I went outside for a ciggie as my assistant was preparing the lights and the cameras, when I came back I found this girl on the bed with a towel wrapped around her. The owner was quick to tell me “not this girl” ,I asked why….the girl slide down the towel and showed me the scars on her back, I jokingly asked her how is going the bondage thing, she smiled softly and said was some sort of accident. I ask her to stay for the massage shoot. I kept on shooting all those glamorous pictures what look good on advertising, but those scars could not go out of my head; the pattern was so beautiful. I was feeling sorry about the bondage joke and I was wondering what happen. I asked her if she will come to the studio to take some pictures of the scars. She smiled and simply asked why? I replied […]
I get up, but where? I didn’t just cogitate this, I actually voice the query to myself: «Where am I?» .The subconscious answer promptly «You are here in your life» that feature of the world that is your existence. I opened my eyes and the dusty morning light hit my pupils. Red expectations Glimpses in time start rolling chaotically, breaks of a car, that club in the night, Savanna, dancing, more dry Savanna, psychedelic lasers, Tequila, moving across the dance floor as a black swan almost floating, unknown alcohol, the foretaste of recollection start fading. I never particularly approved this state of affairs in which I feature, an organism up the wrong path without a way back. I’ll just stay in bed. She new him since high school years, our paths split, he went for an upper education in South Africa, the growing telecoms industry gulp my working time. The faded temporal extent of my recollection start filling, floating across the dance floor I saw him; my teenage years crush. More Tequila, the roller-coaster unyielding at the car breaks; I spotted him opening the car door. When we reconnected? The vivid feel of this reminiscent dream. I swear I can […]
