I Can Survive
Sunday. Another reasonably good evening, although I found it difficult to get to sleep and found myself watching television until eleven. Still, up with the alarm, to breakfast and back feeling pretty good for whatever sleep I may have had. I feel closer to how I felt yesterday, anyway, a good sign for what was a good long day of running around and taking pictures. We'll see, plenty of day ahead right now, it will let me know soon enough.
I suspect another trip over to the Occupy Wall Street encampment for pictures. This would be a good day for the city to kick them out, if they're going to kick them out. A Sunday, not so many people around. I can't see doing it during a work day. In the evening, maybe, but I'd think you might want more light. Unless you don't want it photographed. Paranoia is not completely absent, not after the experience of years gone past. Any real knowledge of what or when the city might move, though, is totally absent.
I have plenty of work left to finish yesterday's photographs. So far there are four sections (of a minimum of 21 each) of photographs I like. I'll keep it to that, four sections, but it will take most of the day to finish. Today? I would hope. If so there'll be a link I'd think.
Later. A good five hours, but the damned things are done. I'm going through the usual routine. Some few are obviously nice, but many are, well, who knows? Again, they need time for them to sink in. Or forget.
A walk down to the bus stop only to have the bus for that time period not arrive. It seems to happen on weekends, at least, between two and three in the afternoons. I wonder if they have a rule of thumb if they're short a bus or a driver, we'll skip the two-thirty or three. I can see why people drive, why I may indeed still drive downtown since the meters aren't running. Again, when I think of the local bus company and want to spit, I think of the San Francisco system and relax. Somewhat. Unless I'm thinking of BARTing over and using their Muni, of course. Hmm. I think I'll head out again and see if the next bus in line is going to come, the smartphone says it is.
Later still. OK, the bus came and I went, getting off by the new bank on Broadway to hit the ATM. I find if I think about it for a bit I'm able to schedule visits that fit in with other trips and the fewer ATM's so far haven't been a problem. Yes, I'm saying that to encourage myself, we'll see if I'm still singing this song in another month.
A walk then to the Occupy encampment. Quite laid back, some people futzing around with a soccer ball in front of City Hall, a fair number of people about. I'm pretty careful about who I shoot as I've had a couple of incidents where I've been verbally addressed/attacked. Nothing serious, I'm usually pretty good at talking my way around it, but I suspect there's been some paranoia in the camp lately over photographs. They want the press, they don't want the press. Or is it they want the press, but they don't want the police? Sometimes paranoia wins out. Sometimes paranoia isn't really paranoia at all, but quite something else.
They do go after the press photographers as often as anyone else, although all of them have assumed I was press. Maybe the grey hair, probably the cameras. If they knew better they'd know the working press can't afford the kind of equipment I've been carrying about.
I did have one older street guy stop me as I was leaving and ask what was the most I'd ever made selling a picture. I stopped, thought about it for a minute, and said “a hundred and thirty thousand dollars”.
“A hundred and thirty thousand dollars!”
“Yeah, but I'm bullshitting.”
That was good for a mutual laugh. I hate to think, though, what might be the most I've ever been paid for a picture. As an amateur money isn't supposed to figure into it, but if I had to support the cameras on whatever that income has been I'd be shooting a Brownie Hawkeye and stealing time in a darkroom. No complaints. We at least look like the real thing out there to most of the folks. Whether that's an advantage or not I don't know.
Ah, well. Some pictures and then back to the apartment on the bus. A long day for such a short shoot. We'll not have sushi and sake for dinner as I was thinking for a while, no need to do that. I have a CD to prepare and ship to Mr. P in Greece tomorrow, the machine is burning it now. Another package owed to my sister, a little guitar and we're done for the weekend. Another grueling week without appointments starting tomorrow. I can survive.