There But For The Grace Of God Go I

This was a difficult photograph on so many levels.

Taking the long way home from work today I began walk east from the Chelsea Piers when I happened upon this man in a wheelchair. He asked me for a smoke and I was able to comply having bought a pack today to make good on a promise to student (I owed him another cigarette because he agreed to stay after school for a meeting with his grandmother on Friday. He was absent yesterday and he didn't take kindly to me smoking half of the loosey I got for him yesterday - - a deal is a deal).

As I was pulling the cigarette from the box to give to the man in the wheelchair I noticed that his hands and face were completely covered in a thick dry black grime and he smelled as if he had been soiling himself for quite some time.

"Do you want to light that now?", I asked pulling out a lighter.

"Sure. Can I ask you something?"

"Okay."

"Do you want to take my picture?"

It's hard not to notice the big ole digital SLR hanging from my neck. I said "Okay" and bent my knees to get to his level and his odor became more noticeable and didn't pay any attention to the camera's settings. I just wanted to try get a decent portrait.

I was already standing with my hand in my pocket when asked, "Can you help me out with something?".

I looked down and he had lost his legs from above his knees. I also noticed and thought that despite the filth that surrounded him and his odor, the blanket that covered his lap and legs was powder blue.

"Hey, it's not a problem".

"You can take a picture of my leg."

"Here, look at the picture I just took of you." I showed him his image as it appeared on the back of the camera.

Again he says, "You can take a picture of my leg."

"Nah man, there's no need for that."

Suddenly feeling horrible about my own self I gave him money as he insisted that I take a picture of his leg.

Minutes later i thought about what had occurred. Amidst the upscale Chelsea galleries of New York City this man lives this existence. And the money I gave him - - what a joke! What would he be able to do with it?

Grand Central Encounter

So I was out and about with some Flickr friends yesterday when I was harassed by a New York City cop stationed in a little air conditioned booth in Grand Central Station. There was a yellow pipe covered in some sort of corroded substance that also obscured a "DANGER" sign against a deep brown wall - - could be a great shot.

I got down on one knee and start to get my breathing just right so I can hold the camera steady enough for long exposure when I feel some one's finger tips forcibly push my left shoulder - - my first reaction was that some was pushing me so that I would fall down. I was ready to scream and hit someone being that I was fairly close to the platform's edge.

"Hey!", I said before realizing it was a cop. "I'm sorry you scarred the crap out of me."

He says, "You can't take pictures here."

"I'm sorry."

We had an exchange along with my friends and the more questions and responses we had the more the cop's reasoning for me not being allowed to take pictures changed.

First he says I can't take pictures of the subway infrastructure. Then he back peddles and says I can't "take pictures of tracks". Then he falls back some more and says the "the Transit Authority policy allows you take pictures, but the Police Department policy doesn't allow pictures of tracks and tunnels."

So I have to ask the cop, "Well how about if I take the picture I want to take, show it to you and you decide if it's okay?". I think that was a bit too much decision making for one cop to handle.

He then dreams up some other stuff about "Homeland Security... blah, blah, blah, blah... Al Qaeda... blah, blah, blah, blah... The size of my camera, blah, blah, blah...". He has no idea what the f- he's talking about now.

Frustrated the cop asks me for my identification at which I soundly say, "No. You may not have my identification. I have not done anything wrong yet."

Surprised the cop responds, "Most people would show their identification." "Well I don't want to." I say.

Naturally I fire off a couple of shots as I pretend to be listening.

Killing A City

I think I'm getting closer to wrapping my head around all that has been happening in my Brooklyn neighborhood and in other parts of New York City; we're becoming more like Paris. Rich in the middle and poor on the outs.

Gone is the notion that blocks can be different from one another and neighborhoods are well, neighborhoods. This change has happened in Manhattan in such a quickness most folks can't recall the working class neighborhoods that once were. The same is happening in Brooklyn.

I also think it's important to say that New York has not only been known as a place with diversity simply because of the people who have been able to live here within fantastic proximity to one another, but also because of what people can do. Namely, New York's diverse economy is what has made it strong. The day it takes someone to trael an hour by subway to pour a cup of Starbucks in Midtown to a well-paid office exectutive you can count this city amongst the dead.

Light manufacturing that helped to create a diverse economy in New York is being replaced by tall and quite expensive apartment dwellings.

This was shot from inside what was a rather large tool and dye factory on Bedford Avenue and N5 Street.

Sometimes You Get Lucky

So this guy and another were sitting on folding chairs in the middle of a sun drenched parking lot in my neighborhood today and together they made wonderful photographic fodder. I stood outside the lot checking them out and I swear it must be the huge DSLR that hangs from my neck that makes all the difference - - I don't think they would have waved me over otherwise. Maybe size does matter?

Anyway I around the corner and into the lot on my tippytoes to keep the mood light as this guys buddy looked sound asleep. The chuckles woke him up. I took a few shoots and thanked them.

Red Alert. Change Has Happened

My rediscovery of photography seems to be ongoing. This weekend Amantha and I went to see the Superstars of Bellydance and sat next to a Serpentessa who is a well known dancer. Amantha has admired her work for sometime and introduced me as an "amateur photographer".

I was stunned. I had never been referred to as that and it felt good. Weird huh?

Today after getting out of the subway I saw this woman walking ahead of me holding the bright orange flower up high in her right hand as she walked. I had to get her photo. I shot a few behind her but taking photos of woman's behinds - - or having my photos confused as being that isn't satisfying for me and I certainly don't want to get caught acting like a pervert in public either. I had to stop her and to ask to take her photo.

"Why do you want to take my picture?"

I was a bit shaken by this because I thought for some stupid reason she'd just say "okay". I told her I like the colors.

Then she asked what I was going to do with the picture. Thinking of how Amantha introduced me three nights before and said, "I'm a amateur photographer." Pointing to my little canon S70 I said something or another about 'the other camera' as if I was cheating on my DSLR or something.

Then she asked for my card. Well don't have a business card or even Chucky Cheese Card. I wrote my name and email address on the back of a receipt stuck deep in my over-sized winter coat and took two pictures.

The idea of asking more people if I can take their pictures instead of sneaking them is beginning to sound, and fell appealing.