What do you get when you decide to take your time leaving Brooklyn to get to the Museum of Natural History the weekend before New Year's? No chance of getting in to see the exhibit you spent two hours traveling to see. Oops. At least I got some pictures.
Someone was too distracted by the magazine Santa left in her stocking to notice the big lump covered by a blanket in the corner. To see more pictures, go here.
The point was to get a picture of all the flour on Scrappy's face, but I noticed in editing that I actually finally got a reflection of myself in my muse's eye like Gilles. Not as nice, but I don't think he was using an Elph that's hit the floor a few times...
I've always liked the idea of doing something special for Christmas cards, but have never really been motivated enough to even send the sets I buy on sale after Christmas. This year, we actually illustrated, designed, printed, addressed, and mailed cards. If you didn't get one, send me your address.
Toward the end of Scrappy's birthday party, we popped up the seamless white and studio lights to make room for expanding my portrait portfolio. This is a rather unsuccessful attempt at desaturating and stylizing the picture. But it was one of the five frames I got with the Philly Phanatic, so that's a plus...
Today I redesigned madelinestrum.com. New edit, new colors, smaller pictures (though the white background helps them look bigger than before) all for a better site.
This time the beauty shoot was done with a real model, a real make up artist, and a diffuser instead of a silver umbrella. It's hard to say if the make up or the diffuser made more of a difference in the skin texture.
This is one of LV's Top Ten toys of 2007. As with all projects, I was happy to shoot them all at once (it's my first black background) but then never delivered the CD. Not that Crazy Colored Glasses has been itching to post its official Top Ten list. Several more action figures have been added to the list since the shoot, so it's hard to say what exactly will make the cut.
I don't feel like putting these on facebook or myspace, so here are pictures of us decorating the tree.
This is Scrappy and Streaky finding some extra joy in the twine that binds the tree...
Note the Gilles Bensimon picture of Christy Turlington. That'll come up again later.
Just in case I ever forget how uneven and hairy the surface of my face really is, or for that day down the road when I yearn for less wrinkly skin, I used myself for a beauty test shoot today.
Where did this month go? Why have I only invoiced one person?
Go check HappiestPuppies--I've introduced new angles and crops per advice from my second session of portfolio reviewing...
The good thing about putting in my two weeks notice (besides the obvious joy of quitting) is that I can antagonize bad customers without much fear of retaliation. Much fear. I'll always be a little scared that I'm somehow in the wrong when I'm so heavily outnumbered by people who seem to feel so entitled.
What is this picture? I've long suspected that people feel free to take a picture of the picture I'm trying to sell them (see "Stealing: Part 1") in order to avoid paying, but people have never done more than just tell me they plan to violate copyright laws by making their own copies of the photo. Then came this table.
If you can't get your mom to throw you a crazy Super Sweet 16 bash, have her take you and your 17 idiot friends to Tavern on the Green. I hate large tables, but I got all of the girls posed, all of them looking, all of them smiling (mostly due to my enthusiasm of having the tiger mural in the background (see: "Rrrrafters is Great!")) and then waited until the birthday girl's mom (the only adult present) was back at table and had had some dinner. I thought if she saw it, she would think it was nice and buy a copy for every girl there as a party favor. If the girls saw it first, they would just criticize the most ridiculous aspects of the picture. I was wrong.
I should have known the mom didn't care because she hadn't bothered to take a picture with the group or of the group when I had them pose. I was still surprised, though, when I came right up to her chair with the picture and she buried her head in her plate, letting me pass it over to the birthday girl without a glance. The girls said, "Oh, that's cute" and "Mad cute!" as it went around the table.
The mom, who hasn't seen the photo, askes, "How much are they?"
"It's thirty dollars for one, twenty-five for multiple copies. Though, if you order large amounts, the cost goes down drastically." They heard "thirty" and started chattering. "That's ridiculous" blah blah blah. The picture has barely started its lap around the table.
Five chairs away from the mom, a girl who hasn't seen the photo yet says, "What if I just take a picture of it?" like it's a brilliant solution. The girls are chattering. The mom says nothing. I debate going over and taking the picture back before it gets to the genius. I decide that's overreacting; I'll just take a picture if she does.
When the picture reaches her, genius takes out her cell phone and tries three times to be sly about getting a picture of the picture. I take about three pictures of her taking a picture. The flash doesn't go off, though. She askes, "What? Are you gonna report me?"
Mother? Care to answer her question for me? No, the mom hasn't said a word since agreeing it's ridiculous to pay $30 for the photo.
The picture travels two more seats, reaching the girl seated right in front of me--within arm's reach of the mom. The girl takes out her camera to get a picture of the picture. This time my flash goes off. She keeps taking pictures. The mom is still quietly waiting her turn to see the picture. Shouldn't someone by now ask why I'm taking pictures?
"We'll take a copy," the mom tells me as it's passed to her. I take it back and say, "Right. I'll come back."
Livid that this stupid chaperon is trying so hard to pretend that she's not there, I hand the memory card off to the printer as "one for the wall" and head outside for some cold air. I couldn't believe that this woman would rather be humiliated into buying a copy than just telling a bunch of 16-year-olds that it's not cool to steal.
I don't want to sell the picture to this table. I don't want to tell them about how they will live in infamy as assholes for taking a picture of the picture. I don't want to explain why copyright is important to a woman who doesn't seem to think self-respect is very important. I avoid the table like the plague. Which is hard when an 18-top takes up so much of the room.
Three people let me know the Sweet Sixteen mom is waiting for me at one of the hostess stands. Ugh... She really does want to buy the photo? I really didn't want to humiliate her into buying it. I gave her every opportunity to sneak away without buying it. I just wanted to document why this job blows.
I go to the Chestnut hostess stand, manager in tow. "I wanted to get a copy of the photo," she says, not sounding the least bit humiliated. I wonder if she's legally stupid.
"It's $30."
"Oh... I don't have any cash on me," she says. I wonder why she's wasting my time. "Do you...?"
"We take credit."
She hands me the card. I tell her she can meet me in the gift shop. "Do you know where it is?"
"Yes, that's where I was waiting for you." When did I make that arrangement with her? Never.
The manager takes the card and says he'll bring it back to her. I wonder if he'll assure her that I soon won't be doing this job any longer.
As more photographers see the picture of the girls taking a picture of my picture, I hear about customers who've been told to delete photos like this from their cameras and the like. People are jerks...
These people are not really jerks. They brought a picture of their grandmother's head on a stick. Then the mom thought the pictures I took were free. Um... No. And even though I was going to give her a $20 discount to buy both pictures, she thought I was asking for one of her sons. The dad was more agreeable, but guys at the table never win--unless they get that wallet out quickly enough. This guy did not. So, I got to keep the print. :0)
As if some of the requests weren't annoying enough for my freelance assignments, my little desk pet took it up another notch. You might think he's sleeping on my mousepad, but that didn't happen until after he was done cleaning himself...
Watching the Tavern on the Green transform from a museum to Satan's bordello (another photog's description of the red lights and red velvet decor) wasn't all that memorable except for the Russians carrying loads of fake gifts. At some slow point during the night, one of the guys who'd been carrying fake gifts asked me to come get a picture of Santa's tree. It actually was pretty and not nearly as Satanic as the rest of the decorations.
I had the rental lights from Thursday to Monday, so it seemed like a waste not to stick Scrappy out in the cold for a shoot. It only took a few frames to break through the forced smile and get to something real.
She really wanted to do a Halloween fashion show. I needed some seamless white practice. This was one that showed the dress best, which I needed as examples for a potential client. There were better portraits in the bunch.
Today I shot Tristan, a Model Mayhem-er, in my backyard. The shoot was originally supposed to be at Coney Island with a wardrobe stylist. But she had a paying gig, so she wasn't able to come play. And then I thought Tristan was going to cancel because of the weather. But after a day in the cold shooting models in ridiculous get-ups, I wasn't about to be deterred from using my rental equipment. So, I told Tristan we'd start in the backyard and that's where we stayed for the whole shoot.
So, I did a shoot for headshots on October 18, but didn't get around to converting files to black and white until today. Things have been a little hectic in my schedule, though. I was illustrating for Woman's Day, doing two freelance assignments for my old boss, worked 10 shifts at Tavern, assisted on two photo shoots, and also photographed a band and the NYC marathon... Just a little busy. Plus getting to the bottom of why I wasn't paid for a gig in July. Luckily converting images today didn't take too long. Voila. Black and white.
Today was the loosely planned shoot for Stuntditch. It was the first fashion/portrait session for Dom, Greg, John and me, but luckily they were all willing to ham it up for the camera, which made my job easier. I can't imagine what it's like to the person on the other side of the camera when I spend three hours frowning at my LCD display. (Not the entire shoot time--just every time I look at what I've shot.) I hold myself to some slightly ridiculous standards. It's good that the people I work with don't feel the same way I do.
And this was my Coney Island lunch...
If you're going to come to Tavern on the Green for dinner in costume, you must fancy yourself quite cool. So cool, you'll order a bottle of champagne with your meal. Then you'll assist your cool friend to the bathroom when she can't walk in her stripper heels. As the only people in the entire restaurant in costume, you must be the coolest people. I bet you want your picture taken.
Oh, no. Cool people don't want their picture taken. They want to bitch about what a drag it is. Then say with surprise, "Oh, that's cute," when shown the evidence of how cool they are. But they're not going to buy it.
Why buy the picture if you can take a picture of the picture? You're cool, though, so you won't blatantly take a picture of the picture. You'll just mysteriously change your mind about getting a copy after it's been left on your table for 10 minutes...
I had these grand plans to go around Manhattan, getting pictures of people in costume. Then go assist the French photographer I found on craigslist. Then go to work at Tavern on the Green. So far today I've taken pictures from the couch and blogged. Lots and lots of catching up happiestpuppies and starting this blog. Not really what I had hoped to accomplish. Though, I was up until 2 a.m. with headshots...
Last year we carved our pumpkin a few weeks before Halloween and it started to cave in on itself long before the 31st. I have no idea where that picture went... Anyway, I took a picture of it with a long exposure that Scrappy really dug. So, I tried again this year. But I kind of prefer the less-experimental take.
I meant to do laundry the first week after my last day at the office job. But I never got around to it.
We separated the laundry one weekend. Then we never took it to get washed. So, two weeks after my first day of working from home and probably six weeks after the last time we picked up clean laundry, I attempted to do the laundry for the first time in a year. More than a year, really. I moved in with LV in September 2006, and that was probably the last time I washed my own clothes.
Washing almost every item of clothing we own was not nearly as time consuming as folding all of it. After several hours, I gave up. I'd seen too much VH1 for one day.
Laundry was still spread about the living room when LV got home. He helped fold.
And then told me some nonsense about not being cute enough to photograph.
Tavern on the Green has six dining rooms. Rarely do they open Rafters. Lucky for me, this particular Sunday they opened it for brunch. The first time the printer pointed out that the tiger mural was ganking some innocent woman in the head, I knew I was on to something. My enthusiasm for posing groups was never so boundless.
For some reason this group decided the picture was "awful" when I showed it to them. I think they just don't appreciate the magic of the tiger. I mean, he's happy to pose with them...
With lots of shifts at Tavern on the Green, the kittens were pretty much the only accessible subjects besides the restaurant patrons...
The best place for Streaky to be while I curled my hair was obviously in the bag of curlers.
My last day at the office job was October 12. Then I got a cold and was scheduled for far too many shifts at Tavern on the Green. Rather than spend much time in front of the computer, getting my act together, I was sifting through my piles of old magazines for ideas, sketching Christmas ornaments for WomansDay.com, and blowing my nose a lot.
Early on, I met a photographer who was wandering around Tavern on the Green, trying to shoot everything he could in addition to the flowers he was there to shoot. He suggested I try to expand my events portfolio by snapping away when parties were held at the restaurant. It was all very encouraging, but the job is sales. I can't really juggle tables and get portfolio-worthy work at the same time.
Hence, not really portfolio-worthy work...
This is the office where I spend time between tables rather than snapping away in private parties or the kitchen. (I don't need to document their practices.)
Through Model Mayhem, I found some opportunities to shoot TFCD. This was the first of those shoots--headshots in the Brooklyn Bridge Park neighborhood.
Then I got home and wanted to keep on shooting with my new lens.
I love the new lens...
I decided to attend a workshop on digital photography long before I thought I was seriously going to quit my job. Then as the workshop approached and I still hadn't been officially signed up, I contemplated that my $50 might be better used some place else. I ended up attending the shop. And the most useful thing about that day was having one the guest speakers, Rick Sammon, tell me to take a lovely Rembrandt portrait of a total stranger at lunch.
So, I was heading off to the Tavern on the Green that morning, bracing myself for a retarded construction-filled commute, when I remembered that I didn't have my Metro card. Hurrying back to the apartment, I saw a mailman ringing the downstairs neighbor's door. He had a big box. I was late. But he had a big box.
"Can I help you?" I ask the mailman.
Why, yes, I can because he's holding a big box for me. My e-Bay seller and the USPS had rushed the 1DS I'd just paid for on Thursday. As I run up the stairs to drop off the camera and get my Metro card, I contemplate taking the box with me so I can play with it on the train.
I left it behind to open that night. This is one of the first pictures I took while testing out the functions. While switching the camera straps (the new one wasn't as good as the one on my Rebel), the Rebel fell all of 6 inches and battery door broke on it. The Rebel now sports a fancy rubber band to hold the battery in place. Hot.
I thought it would be a fun idea to run around to every playground we could find and get a picture of Scrappy on the slide. Partly to celebrate the number of un-vandalized playgrounds in St. Charles and partly to have something to do before our late flight back to New York. I ran out of memory by the time we got to the fourth park. We didn't head out for more parks after picking up a new card. Maybe next time...
