familiar faces

Ponce was bustling last night and it reminded me how alive it can feel when the weather is nice. It's been awhile since I simply took an after hours stroll through the neighborhood but I think one is in order. It's not just the street people, but a variety of locals were out, lounging in front of MJQ or eating on the porches of the three patio amigos across from the library. It was reassuring to see that after sundown the crowds don't suddenly migrate to Midtown and turn this into a shell of the urban frontier.

The street has an assortment of characters, some of whom are just visiting and others who are mainstays. I know some of their names, so when we see one another, it's usually time for a quick chat.

After a long hiatus, I recently spotted Willy heading up the street at his usual pace. The recognition wasn't instant as he was wearing baggy shorts rather than his usual risque fair. I wanted to say hi, but we were headed in opposite directions. It's been a while since I saw Willy and I wondered if he'd given up his routine of hanging out on the corner, waving to folks. Willy's alternate name is Bike Shorts Man, and if you're unfamiliar with him, it will only take an online search to dig up his infamy.

Later I bumped into Stewart. He was surprised I remembered him. The last time we met he was buying booze for OTP high school students who were in town for prom. I asked him if he was clean and he avoided the question, which I took as a 'no'. He was very excited about his new celebrity status. A film crew had recently paid him five dollars to be an extra in a rap video and now the video was on BET. He then told me that his only other on camera spot was for "Crackheads Gone Wild". That crew had paid him three dollars to answer questions about being addicted to crack.

Stewart told me to take his picture. I did and he continued on about his spreading reputation. He told me he was going to move to San Diego and become a porn star. He told me to look up his video appearances on the internet. He told me he was going to be famous. After a smoke, Stewart said his farewell and waved goodbye. I had no doubt that he would turn to drugs if need be, but I saw that glimmer of hope in his eye while we talked and I secretly hoped that his aspirations would help him find stability. I wonder if I sometimes give people too much credit, but when I watch the desire in desperate men to become a better person, it's hard not to envision them in a brighter future.

rest

Taking a load off on the front stoop of The Eagle.

war on photography

Sometimes I miss office humor. If I had a skeleton model, I'd spend far too much time posing it in various, compromising positions.

I took this frame a few minutes before heading into Whole Foods with a friend. He was buying some fruit drink and as we wandered the open coolers, I raised my camera to snap an image of him making his selection. I managed one shot before an employee immediately stepped forward and told me to stop. He explained to me that they did not allow photography in their store and I would have to obtain permission from the store manager and receive a media credential if I wanted to push my shutter inside the store. I said nothing, mostly because I was waiting for him to tell me he was going to have to confiscate my camera, (he did not) and I really love telling people they are welcome to try and take it from me.

In the end, an image of my friend buying a soda is not a picture worth fighting for from a publicly traded company. I've had far worse problems with Wal-Mart and other shopping giants of that ilk to bother trying to tell some PR employee that their policy is ridiculous. I dropped my camera to my side and went on my way.

I've love my cheap rangefinder because it's almost never viewed as a threat. It's a small camera and unassuming enough to be able to grab an image without people thinking I'm on the payroll at X17. I would think no one is interested in some guy shooting slow, audio-less film in the digital age when at any given time, a store could have hundreds of customers, each packing cellular camera/video phones that are capable of transmitting the latest gossip within seconds to New York, So Cal, London, etc. While those kids are reaping the benefits of celebrity culture, broadband and direct deposit, I'm still toiling over my sink hoping that my grainy image of some local person doesn't get overexposed when I open the developing tank.

Stores have security rules for a reason, but I fail to see how preventing someone from taking a picture of something that any other customer can see with their eyes is prohibitive. In hindsight, I simply wonder what Whole Foods is trying to hide. Poorly maintained health standards? Organic price gouging? Incompetent stock boys?

An article written by Bruce Schneier in London's The Guardian asked about the increasing suspect of photographers worldwide. In short, the point he makes is that photography is far more scrutinized today as a possible security threat, though most terrorists, (the worst case scenario) are not users of photography in their research.

Even as more and more consumers drape expensive, digital SLRs around their necks, I still notice eyes wander when I head into a store packing my rangefinder. I never hesitate if I want to take a picture, but when I feel the presence of authority nearby, I generally prepare myself for a lecture when an employee steps forward to tell me I cannot press the shutter. I want to laugh it off, but it's not funny. I'm labeled sort of deviant when trying to photograph anything inside a store, even though their security team has been photographing me since I arrived in the parking lot.