I recently posted a question on Flickr (first time) concerning "street photography" that I originally posted here. It concerned photographs not unlike the one above that are very much of the street, but not particularly of the style or subject matter most commonly associated with "traditional" street photography. Things got off to a rather rocky start to say the least before (fortunately) settling down into a more productive, positive space. I'm not going to reiterate all that transpired, but you can check it out (or not) if interested...
Meanwhile, I developed a roll in which I witnessed an image that was truly magical upon first sight. It was from a distance, but miraculous all the same. And then (could it be?), fate was to smile down upon me and have it actually reoccur when I was within shooting range? I just had time enough to focus, compose... and time it perfectly! Did I just bottle that lightning- or what!? It was the second or third frame of the roll- so I had time aplenty to savor the mind's eye image, imagine the grandeur, sweat the unknowing uncertainty.*
Alas, it was nevertheless, not meant to be. The kid got played. The photo gods were just not going to grace me with fruition this time around- in fact, they were quite content to engage me in their rather cruel hoax of allowing me that rare and privileged second chance at glory, full well knowing that it was only to result in the permanent degradation of my once miraculously visionary moment into that of a well done, everyday snapshot. Very cruel, and at the least, unnecessary punishment.
Strangely enough however, they were not beyond throwing me some small bone of consolation deep within the recesses of same said roll, a throw away shot (so I presumed) of some throw away shoes discovered on my way to grab a cup o' Joe during lunch one workday. There's a lesson there somewhere...
*OK, OK- it was a shot of three, thirteen or so budding ballerinas posing for their strategically placed point and shoot, as they struck a pose with their best ballerina high kick (I'm sure there must be a name for it) with the Golden Gate Bridge in the background. I failed to capture the magic (was it even there the 2nd time around?)- but it could have been worse... as soon as I pressed the shutter I immediately expected a big beefy hand to twirl me around by the scruff of the neck, as a red faced, bulging eyed maniac demanded to know what the hell a pervert like me thought he was doing to those young girls. Perhaps the photo gods weren't quite as pernicious as they well could have.
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