Sometimes I get depressed. I feel I have taken my last photograph and there is nothing left to do. Its a good thing, I have been around because I know from many past experiences that this is just a passing phase. Like everything else in life, this too will pass. Most creative people have experiences this many times in their career. Its inevitable—there is nothing left to do but sit it out.
I took this shot in New Orleans a few weeks ago. I did not notice it on my first edit but then upon looking over my shots—voila!… there it was. I liked it. I liked it a lot so I put it up on my Facebook page. Then something strange happened. For one brief moment, I though I would never again do anything as nice. The initial shock quickly passed but moments of doubt, lack of confidence, feelings of inadequacy lingered on. So I stopped. Every now and then I pick up a camera but I have not done anything much. I went to Daytona Bike Week, got bored after one day and came home. I was supposed to go to Caile Ocho in Miami, but I changed my mind. Last night I was planning on going to the Northwood neighborhood in West Palm Beach but it rained. Feelings of doom rained down alongside it. Nothing works.
So I do what I always do when this happens. I play some golf, eat nice dinners with my wife, putz around the house and go over old photographs in Lightroom. Guess what happens? While going over old shots that I took a few years ago, I find something new, something different, something fresh, something I never saw before. In a few days all this shit will be over and I will resume the quest_the quest for my next photographic gem.
Bike week can be exhausting and when it is hot, it takes its toll. This year I made two decisions when I came back for a second round at Daytona. 1. Wear a hat. 2. Drink beer.
1. Wearing a hat was a no-brainer. Since I don’t have much hair left on top, I noticed last year that I was burning and then had to seek refuge in shady areas. Not a bad idea, however the shots I were looking for happened to be where the sun shone, so I had to make some choices. I chose sunburn and went to bed with a headache every night. This year I bought a black Harley cap.
2. Drink beer. This one was more complicated. Last year, I noticed that a lot of the action was in the vast outdoor bars that litter the place. Thats where the action was—that’s where I thought I should be and just walking around with a camera, was sort of odd. I did not think I really blended much and so this year I thought I could deal with a few issues by drinking beer. I could keep hydrated sort of and I look as if I belonged sort of. To stay sober, I only drank Bud Light which did not taste so bad—it almost tasted like beer. Hanging around with a can in my hand also slowed me down and I could wait for the right shots. (Patience has always been a problem with me).
So here I was, in a bar, drinking beer and I saw this cleaning woman having her lunch in the bathroom of this gigantic outdoor bar. I saw here sitting there, lonely, outside of the action and it had a sort of sad feeling.
I have really begun to enjoy Bike Week in Daytona Beach. This was the second time going and it keeps getting better. I don’t ride a bike anymore—in fact its been a very long time but when I did I enjoyed it. It did give me a sense of total freedom, which is something one begins to cherish as we grow up. I love the crowd here. It is a “live and let live” group and almost anything goes as long as you keep it to yourself. I like to think of it as boobs, beer, bikes, butts and bellies and they are all in abundance here. This is as hot of Evan and his girlfriend who I met here. I was photographing him and he noticed me so we spoke. He asked me to take a shot of them, which I did and sent it to him. He then asked if he could take a shot of me and his gf and of course I obliged.
The previous week I went to Calle Ocho in Miami which is another festival for the hispanic community. It was not much different than Bike Week. That was boobs, beer, butts and salsa.