Porous

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.

November's over?

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...

Stealing: Part 2

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)

Officemate

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...

Santa's Comin' to Town

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.

Models in My Backyard (cont.)

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.

Models in My Backyard

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.

ANTM

I assisted on a very long, very cold shoot today for America's Next Top Model. It means I missed taking pictures at Rolling Stone Live: Gym Class Heroes. Oh well...

Back to School

I decided to retake a six-week course I took at the beginning of the year. This Wednesday night was the first class. There are only three people in the class again, which is good. More time for me to eat up forcing everyone to look at my pictures. ;0)

Tuesday...

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.

Coney Island Pt.1

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...