Lookout Duty

 

(Written on Friday September 25th 2010)

Tonight I’m squeezing down under a dusty stairwell to get a shot that I’ll only be able to attempt once.  He can only surprise her once, she doesn’t realize that he had the ring smuggled to him weeks ago – he’s talked to her father, she thinks that he’s leaving on Sunday to do that. I have one chance – one chance to capture this for the both of them.  I’ve adjusted the flood lights, I’ve walked thru the steps with him, I’ve put discrete bits of tape on the floor – there is a structural beam which could be a problem – He had me make a music mix to run in the background as well. 

So I’m sitting here, at a table with a white table cloth, flowers, and a ring – on a Friday night.  Listening to the most romantic music mix I could make - Ella, Nina, Louie, Billie, Dean, Frank, Nora, Michael, Madeline, Ingrid, Holly, and Ray are all keeping me company to night. 

I’m on lookout duty – for the next 2 hours.

Earlier I went to the pub downstairs to get something to eat – my first time sitting at a bar – by myself – on a Friday night. 

 

 

Interesting . . . . in the space of two minutes, I managed to alienate the bartender, and have a not quite drunk, not quite sober fellow tell me that I was “very big”

So this is my Friday night – waiting for text that will tell me to dim the lights and get into position.

I’ll hunker down, take off my shoe and my boot to better slide around silently – and hopefully I’ll snag a photo that will bring them smiles for the rest of their lives together . . .

 

 

 

 

 

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Snippets from an Unrelated Project

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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And Another Very Unrelated Shoot

 

 

(Written today)

I’m tired – it’s late – so, so much. 

 

 

 

I look forward to rest.

 

 

 

There is a scene I like in a Mark Twain story that I love – a scene where our hero has been swept away, out to sea off the coast of New York, rescued by a passing ship and ends up working for his passage across the Atlantic.  He ends up in London with only the cloths on his back.  And there is a scene in this tale – a small scene which does little to progress the story, but reveals much of the character of our hero.

He sit’s on a bench in the park to take stock of his situation.

 

Here when I read this story is where I smile, here is a lesson that has served me well.  This young man – swept out to sea, leaving behind a life in America, and no money for a return ticket. 

Taking stock, he lists out all of his challenges with a cool and level head, and whenever there is one that is beyond him, one that is out of his control he tells himself to “let it go”.