|Photo: © S. Banos|
Been quite the first half of the year (at least photographically), here we are mid year and I already have fifty plus keepers- that eclipses 2012, my all time record when I had 50+ for the entire year! It's in large part due, of course, to the new tool in the arsenal that I obtained this February. The GR has really paid off image wise, they seemed to be dropping from the skies for a while, and now it's slowed... to... a... trickle.
Many would say that it's probably cause the novelty has diminished, and I'm not as open to new images and experiences as I was at first, or not concentrating, or not.... The first part undoubtedly rings true, working the GR is no longer a novelty- I'm still acclimating, but considerably more comfortable; the latter I've always had trouble digesting (no matter the camera, medium or technique used). I'm always hungry for images, but when you're working the streets, sometimes (most of the times?) no matter how armed and ready: the raw materials never show; the lighting is off; the people you do ask to shoot give you a dirty look instead of a simple, "Sure;" the "decisive moment" happened a second before you could possibly reach it, or hours after you moved on to seek your fortune elsewhere.
Recently, I got off work early, and camera in hand, decided to make the most of the remaining day; for two long hours, absolute... crickets. Called it a day, went to the Dave Jordano
exhibit and on my way home- an opening; literally stalked my subject for a couple of blocks and a coupla snaps to get the shot above. Granted, not the greatest photo ever taken- but a keeper nonetheless; something to add a smile to your sore feet, so you can toast a beer, instead of dejectedly downing one with thoughts of... next time.
And that's where the story should end.
That 11th hour keeper reinforced the age old axiom that persistence always wins out. And it often does, or... at least just often enough to reinforce the belief, ie- feed the addiction. That last second, end of the line shot fueled yet more days of dogged, determined, hard core persistence- and not a damn thing to show for any of 'em. What it was, was the parting shot to one phenomenally lucky shooting streak. Days soon turned to weeks, as the days of plenty became ensconced in the past, instead of the ongoing present.
Of course, the photos will come, eventually, in dribs and drabs, one here, one there in their own good time. Got freaky lucky first half of the year, and "lucky" spurts don't happen often, least not for me. And when they do- I get spoiled, and think I can turn it on and keep it on simply by trying hard enough.
But reality is never far behind to bite ya firmly in the ass and remind ya just how damn hard it is to get even one good shot.