Just prior to the Memorial Day weekend, I contacted Joerg Colberg concerning his previous post- I also took the opportunity to ask him whaddup with Mr. Lars Von Trier- the whole Cannes/Nazi kerfuffle. Seems that although he may not have been misquoted- he's hardly the Nazi sympathizer...
Saturday, I had planned to start the weekend off with a leisurely afternoon bike ride, which quickly came asunder when I woke up to a flat tire. Went out to get a patch kit, opted for some new fangled, glueless bike patches, patched her up, put her on and the goddamn, high tech patch of the future didn't hold! Flat again! A new patch kit, or a new tube...
So when Pete Brook called and said he was in town and was hooking up with Noah Beil- would I like to join them for a brew... did I ever! I'm just hoping I didn't make too much the fool of myself as I downed a few that made up for lunch, dinner and frustration, and then proceeded to babble on for what was quite possibly the most I've ever babbled. Truth is, I never actually get to talk photography all that much live and in person, I believe Blake Andrews once posted about the glazed look that instantly overcomes anyone you ever attempt to "engage" in a conversation about photography, who usually talks about, say... football- not that different than the automatic glaze that overcomes me when anyone attempts to talk to me about... football.
Talking photography felt great, the drinking of the beer felt great, seeing (and yes, listening to and conversing with) them was great- and I'm just hoping their ears weren't bleeding too profusely some six hours later...
Talking photography felt great, the drinking of the beer felt great, seeing (and yes, listening to and conversing with) them was great- and I'm just hoping their ears weren't bleeding too profusely some six hours later...