Zombies, Nuts and Coney Island

On any given subway ride downtown you'll see at least a few musicians playing on the subway. Some are good, some not so great. This guy was intense. He attempted to sing and play reggae music on a guitar that was completely out of tune. I gave him a dollar and snapped 3 photos. He didn't move, he just stared at me with those crazy zombie eyes. A few months ago while shooting at City Island I saw a Jeep with a set of metallic balls hanging off the trailer hitch. I actually didn't think it was funny, I thought it was the stupidest thing I'd ever seen. I Googled "trailer hitch testicles" and found them under the name Bumper Nuts where they stated "Slap these on your vehicle and show the world who owns the road." Or, what I think it says: "I'm a moronic imbecile who actually paid for fake nuts to go on my car. Did I mention I was also the star of my high school football team in 1981 and play online poker?"

This week I was walking along the Upper West Side and saw this guy with a set of those stupid balls hanging on the back of his wheelchair. Now I've seen everything.
A happy couple enjoying one of the last weekends at Coney Island.
Running through the runoff water of the public showers at Coney Island.

Pathetic Pete

After receiving literally hundreds of requests (okay, two) to put something up to replace the "bloated deer" photo, here it is, New York's most miserable clown.

While walking through Times Square the other day I saw this smug-looking clown just sitting there among the throngs of tourists. I asked him if he would mind if I took a photo. He stared at me for a moment looking annoyed and then mumbled, "Gimme a dolla'." I said, "What?" He repeated in a loud and nasty tone, "Gimme a dolla'." I handed him a dollar. I pointed my camera at him and he just sat there frowning and wouldn't even look at me. Annoyed, I said, "Hey, clown, look this way. Smile or something." Frustrated and a bit curious, I sat across from him and made small talk by asking him his name. In a heavy Brooklyn accent he said, "Pete, Pete the Painter," as he pointed to his tie which had his name on it. It was like pulling teeth trying to talk to this clown. Finally he warmed up a bit and told me that he was 71 years old and a retired house painter. His dream is to be a stand up comedian like Henny Youngman. Then he pulled off about ten stale old one-liners, one after another. I tried to laugh but could barely fake a smile. He sucked. He told me he comes out here a few times a week and sits around waiting for someone to ask to take his photo. "Some days I only make about 12 dollars and other days as much as 25 or 30 bucks. I'm retired, I need the money." I reached in my pocket and gave him another $2 (big spender). Not exactly the clown you want to hire for your kids 12th birthday party. Well, unless you want all the kids to commit a mass suicide.

"Some venison with your latte, Sir?"

Last weekend while in Virginia I went to the local Starbucks close to my sister's condo. As I pulled in, I noticed a dead deer lying near the entrance. This wasn't a fresh kill, it had been sitting there for awhile. I got my morning coffee and drove away. About 1/2 mile down the road I wondered why I hadn't taken a photo of this odd scene. The next day I got up and drove back to Starbucks. The deer was still in the same place and even more bloated than the day before. I got my normal grande decaf and walked out to the street. Coffee in one hand, Canon in the other. Immediately the smell hit me and I noticed it was covered with flies and beginning to decompose. I took my photos and noticed traffic slowing as passengers stared. I could almost hear their conversations just by looking at them: "What's that man doing? He must be crazy...."

PRS Experience

My great friend and local guitar legend Mike Ault invited me to this year's PRS Experience at the Paul Reed Smith guitar factory outside Annapolis Maryland. I had forgotten how much I love musicians and taking photographs of them. I spent the whole day walking around shooting and listening to incredible music all day. To say I had great time would be a huge understatement.

Davey Knowles of Back Door Slam
Mike Ault
David Grissom (Storyville, Mellencamp, Dixie Chicks)
"Newbie" Kristen Capolino
The Italian Andrea Braido

Cameras, Dogs and Jesus

I've gone off the deep end regarding purchasing point-and-shoot cameras. A few short years ago many of these were considered good quality expensive cameras. Now, you walk into any thrift store and pick them up for about $5 and some for as little as $1.50. I might do a self-published book with photos taken with these cameras. The collection continually grows as I'm becoming a camera hoarder. I love them all. Walking through Times Square the other day I saw this dog waiting for its owner. So focused.
At a thrift store the other day I noticed Jesus in the trash can. I fished him out and found that his legs and arms were broken off. What does one do with a broken Jesus? You can't let the American flag touch the ground but you can throw away Jesus? There should be a Jesus recycling center. I felt I was committing a sin by leaving him there.
In an infrequently traveled corridor of Penn Station people come and sprawl out on the floor to loiter and sleep. This guy was snoring like a freight train. It echoed in the empty room.

Sick of computers

Last month a nasty virus invaded this computer and it basically froze up. As I posted earlier, my kind roommate took it to work and got the whole thing cleared up by the tech nerds. It's all better except, now, I just tried to download photos I've taken recently and for some reason it's not working the way it always has. I can't download squat. And, I'm too computer illiterate to figure out what I'm doing wrong. The little popup says it can't recognize the files. It's 3:00am, I'm tired, I give up.

I went out and bought a 24-inch iMac a few months back. I still haven't figured out how to do anything it other than to turn it on and stare at the screen. I truly hate working on computers. They crash, they're confusing, they have 9 thousand systems you have to learn and relearn once you buy a new one. They're not "user friendly" by any stretch of the imagination. How does a person sit down in front of a new computer and figure all these things out? What each button (or series of button maneuvers) does? Do I just blindly start pressing shit hoping I miraculously press the correct combo to achieve the desired results? I just attempted to make a power point presentation on my iMac through the iWork program. I got as far as the first page. How does one learn this?

I'm venting... I'll figure out how to put photos up when I'm not tired and pissed off. God I friggin' hate computers. Here are some older pics I haven't posted. New ones coming.

Smoochers at Coney Island

Smoochers on a Bronx subway platform

Future "asphalt rash", Central Park.

Graffiti truck.

Only in New York

Two odd things happened on my way to work on Thursday, my last day of shooting during Fashion Week. I jumped on the A train headed downtown at around 9:20am and being only the second stop from where the train starts on 207th I got a perfect seat (rare to impossible 2 stops later). At about 181st street a Jewish kid about 17 wearing a yarmulke gets on and sits next to me. One stop later he taps me on the shoulder and mumbles something about Columbus Circle. I reply, "Yeah, it's about 6 stops ahead." He looks annoyed and said louder, "No, I'm scared I'll sleep through my stop, will you wake me at Columbus Circle?" I smiled and said "Sure pal, snooze out." Within seconds his head was tilted back, mouth agape and he was out cold. I'd glance over at him every once in awhile and he remained asleep the whole way. At 59th I reached over and gently shook his shoulder. Startled, he looked over at me, got his bearings and said "Thanks man" and quickly hopped off the train.

I continued on, getting off at Grand Central and stopped at my usual Starbucks inside the station. Standing in line the ambient music was surprisingly loud playing Aretha Franklin's "(You make me feel) Like a Natural Woman". Suddenly, with all the enthusiasm and perfect pitch of Aretha's real backup singers, the three black girls working behind the counter loudly sang the chorus "...Like a natural woman...woooman" leaving everyone in the place smiling.

Only in New York City.

2 Kentucky faces

As we were leaving, Jacob sat down on the steps to his trailer and I took my last few photos of him. I see such potential in this kid but this cynical voice inside my head tells me what will probably come of him solely due to his environment. This makes me sad. I can only hope I'm wrong.

At the Huddle House restaurant in Harlan, Ky., about 2:00am, I saw this coal miner and a buddy finishing their meal. I walked over, introduced myself and told him I was curious as to how deep in the mine he had worked that day. He seemed eager to talk about his job and said, "Oh, about 7 miles." Thinking he might be exaggerating a bit, I asked if he was joking, he wasn't. He told me that each day at the beginning of his shift, he and 9 other men climb onto a waist high electric carrier and ride this thing lying on their backs for 45 minutes down a 3 foot high narrow shaft deep into the mine. Once inside they're digging out coal in a "room" that is only about 14 feet wide and still only 3 feet tall from 3:00pm to midnight. He runs the scoop. Which is basically an electric go-cart (you also drive lying down) with a blade on the front that you scoop the coal with and load onto the conveyor belt. I literally had a panic attack as he was talking about being down there. We walked outside to the parking lot so he could smoke a cigarette and he popped his trunk to show me his gear. Tall black boots and his small belt mounted air tank which is apparently very cumbersome and no one bothers to wear. Again, I felt a rush of panic and extreme claustrophobia just hearing about his job. He ended the conversation saying it was very peaceful and fairly quiet down there. He added that it sure beat working above ground dealing with "all the elements."

Dustin the coal miner.

More images from my travels

While driving deep in the backwoods of Kentucky I saw this guy sitting on his porch. I got out of the car and after talking to him for a few minutes, I asked if I could take his photograph. He seemed glad to oblige me and sat patiently while I fiddled with my camera and strobe. Down on his luck, he was suffering from a variety of issues and illnesses. After I was done I handed him $10. He smiled widely and said,"You know what I'm gonna do with this? I'm gonna buy me a big ol' joint," and then he chuckled, happy as a clam.

This is Travis

This is Onus. The only time on my trip I was actually a bit scared of a subject. While I was speaking to his 70-year-old brother Enus, Onus just leaned against this truck watching, listening, and smoking. Then, after I snapped a few photos of him, he walked over to his car, popped the trunk showing me a variety of handguns and rifles he had for sale. He reached in and picked up a .38 revolver. With a serious tone he said, "This one here killed a man...he committed suicide with it." It was a bit unnerving. The hair on the back of my neck stood up when I glanced in that trunk. Vicco, Ky.

Jacob's sister with their happy Jack Russell. (Ky.)
Beautiful girl at the fair waiting to get on a ride. She reminded me so much of one of Sally Mann's subjects.
I photographed many animals at that Pennsylvania county fair a few weeks ago, sadly most of whom would be eaten shortly afterward. But this goat was a dairy goat. Someone (or something) had removed its ears for some odd reason. I couldn't find its owner to ask why. I'd never seen an earless goat before. It seemed happy enough.

I'm back... again

After nearly a month of computer problems and traveling I can finally add something to this blog. I took a week off and went to help my friend Nemo build a fence in his yard. While there I went to the Perry County (Pa.) fair. For two days I walked around talking with and photographing the locals as well as some of the "carnies." They were an interesting bunch. Most of them more than glad to take any fool's money who would easily spend $34 trying to toss a hoop on a bottleneck to win his girlfriend a $2.00 stuffed animal.

Almost as soon as I returned from Pa. I hopped on a flight down to Atlanta and then zig-zagged my way up through Tennessee, Kentucky, and West Virginia, mostly on back roads. That's where you'll find some real characters.

Being late (almost 3:00am) I only had a short time to prepare a few images.

This is Jacob.
While riding down some random gravel road deep in Kentucky I passed a trailer. A woman was suspiciously watching our unfamiliar car drive by so I stopped, rolled down the window and asked her where the road went. I got out of the car, camera in hand and asked if I could snap a few photos. She seemed surprised that I wanted to and as I raised my camera the front door flew open and 4 kids stepped cautiously out into the road to check me out. The youngest and most shy kid was named Jacob. He took a liking to me after a few minutes and wanted to show me his tadpoles and new puppy. I felt an odd, unexplainable bond to this little boy. I couldn't stop snapping photos of him. He was smart, engaging, and inquisitive. We spent a good hour talking to the kids and Mom and taking photos. After I left I couldn't help wonder what would become of him. Odds are that he won't finish school, surely won't go on to college, and there's a very high likelihood he'll end up on drugs. Sadly, a probable scenario in that part of the country. I'm giving serious thought to offering to pay for his college if he ever makes it through high school. I don't know why I feel so compelled to save this little guy. He was truly a beautiful little boy.

This is Billy. He ran one of the rides at the fair. He told me he thought I was an inspector. Nice guy after he warms up to you; however, I wouldn't want to get on his bad side.

Proud farmer on his restored tractor.

While talking to a woman who was a dairy farmer we noticed 3 tiny rabbits huddled in front of a porta-john. It's was a miracle they hadn't been trampled. She put them in a box filled with grass to take home.

Another proud farmer on his vintage Allis Chalmers...or maybe a Massey Furguson...what do I know?

And, another.

Solitude & Random snaps

This morning I got up and decided to make an attempt at experiencing solitude. My good friend Ron sent me this exercise where you sit upright, erect, eyes open, looking straight in front of you for one full hour. Most people have never done such a thing. I never had. Obviously a form of meditation but most people never, ever sit in a quiet place, in one position, without interruption or distraction for a solid hour. So, I did it. I squirmed like an impatient little kid for the first 20 minutes and then finally fell into a peaceful groove. Before I knew it my alarm went off and my hour was up. A very interesting exercise. I suggest you try it. It's harder than you think.

Running dogs in Central ParkUnder the 1 train, Bronx
Harley, bar, Bronx
Fancy toilet behind fancy apartment, upper west side.

The Teva tan is in full swing. I've only had on "regular" shoes once this summer. I wore them to a portrait job of coat-&-tie execs. I promised myself I was going to be in shorts this year but can't seem to deviate from my uniform of painter pants and a blue H&M t-shirt. I need to get these legs tanned in one day at Coney before summer's end.

Walking up Hudson Street I took a little detour through the garden behind St. Lukes while on my way to the thrift store. Walking along the path I had a flashback to my first years of photography shooting flowers and bugs with my trusty Nikon. I had a 50mm macro with me and took a few snaps of these tiny, delicate flowers. It was a sort of Zen moment. I may start shooting nature again as a form of meditation. I found it very calming.

Up in the Bronx I saw this guy sitting outside a bodega eating something he had just taken out of the trash. I asked him if I could take his portrait and he smiled and sort of mumbled "yeah... yeah...." As I raised my camera he closed his eyes. I shot a few frames and then asked him to open his eyes. He didn't respond. Then I noticed that he had cotton stuffed in both ears. I finally yelled, "open your eyes" and he did... but his face turned sour and almost demonic, even annoyed. After I finished I loudly asked him if I could buy him a drink. He smiled and said, "Corona." I gave him $2.

Been a long time..

Back after 16 days of silence. Seems the home computer was so infected that neither of the "experts" at Spyware nor McAfee could do anything to remedy the problem. Both tried (for about $100) and were forced to admit defeat and refund the money. My wonderful roommate took the computer to the tech nerds at work and got the whole thing squared away for the cost of a few cupcakes and a genuine, heartfelt thank you. Back to work faster than ever and all cleaned up. I'm so appreciative.

Back to the blog that no one reads:

Below Canal street, time for evening prayers.
In the Chelsea art gallery district time for a nap on a hot summer evening.
Found this a bit odd... A "homey" in the hood (vicinity of Harlem) reading a book on Feng Shui. I'm trying to get a mental picture of him in his apartment. A little rock garden and some bamboo in a glass container. Incense burning, sitting barefoot Indian style on his oriental carpet while a new age cd quietly plays in the background. Nope....not working.. mental image is fuzzy...not getting a clear signal.. does not compute...
Frustrated artist with too much time on his hands... The urban version of one of those Indian "dream catchers".
I have no idea what this store/restaurant may have sold. The possible jokes are just too stupid and obvious..... "Obama riding a llama to Chashama with yo mama...." I can't believe I just wrote that... I'm delirious..it's 2:15am.

Urban waterfall

Up here in "Little Dominica" they're big on opening fire hydrants. One particularly hot day I counted 4 open hydrants in a 6 block range. Seems at least one person on each block has the special wrench to open these things. Sooner or later the fire department shows up, shuts the water off and 20 minutes later it's back on and the kids are back in the street enjoying their own little "urban waterfall".