[Journal Menu]

[Home Page]

[Oakland Cam]


[100 Books]

[Other Sites]



Under Construction

Ladies and Gents Who Lunch photos
How Berkeley Can You Be? Parade

October 5th, 2003

Think To Ask
As a lazy weekend, not too bad. Tired. Spent a lot of time in bed. The funky head? Well, I go outside with it, do go outside with it if I experience a strong enough urge. Hunger works. I may have to go back to the neurologist and mention I'm still having the symptoms, but there isn't a lot he can do other than run another scan. If the symptoms continue or get stronger, that's the course we'll have to take. Am I thinking he's going to find something unpleasant? I don't know. Life is weird. Weirder. Other than that, a nice day, the sun is out, warm, warmer than I quite like, but last night was cool, requiring blankets, and winter will come soon enough one day to us all. Meanwhile I'm going to drink whiskey and make light with the ladies.

Who are you? What have you done with the Proprietor's brain?

It's easy to sit here watching words with no relation to reality stream across the screen. They say "go with your gut". What gut? The laid back lazy "don't know what you're talking about" gut? The hard core "gut it out" gut? The gut of a guttered flame?

You know what I'm talking about. At least try to describe something from your day.

Well, an example of this funky headed feeling: I walked down to have breakfast later than usual this morning and the interior of the cafe was filled with people so I sat out on the patio at the one last remaining half shaded table between the cafe and the sidewalk beside a woman who seemed to be correcting papers. Two younger women sat down at a table still out in the sun beside us, one with a really elaborate tattoo down her right arm. Another tattoo in the same style by the same artist ran from under the top of the right leg of her slacks ending two inches from the toes of her foot. Did the same tattoo meander down her side? I assumed they were two (as it happens) gay ladies out for a leisurely Sunday morning breakfast. The woman with the tattoo had a small dog on a leash and she got to talking with the young woman who was correcting papers, her own dog hidden away half asleep under her chair.

So they were talking (about their dogs) and I was thinking how would I photograph that tattoo? You may think that would be easy, but I think in terms of candid portraits, how to incorporate the tattoo (without using both of them in the photo)? They were both attractive women showing a bit of style, it would have been nice to photograph either one of them, but I made no effort to start the conversation to find out. That's what I mean by funky headed. Nine and a half times, nine point nine times out of ten they would have said no (even assuming a reasonable not too off the wall approach), but you can't know unless you ask. I mean she's obviously into images. You need to go that last foot or yard or mile. It would have been fun to just talk about it. You don't get a tattoo like her tattoo without passion of some kind. Women, gay and straight, can be up for things if you think to ask.

That's the difference between a chance for a potentially interesting photograph and nothing. Acting on an idea, a whim. Of course I'll remember the next time I sit down next to two women, one of whom has a really artfully done tattoo - I run into them every day, don't you? - and maybe then, who knows. They say that's the secret: Show up on time (paraphrasing Woody Allen) and never quit.

The photograph was taken at the How Berkeley Can You Be? Parade.