Calzone
Gear Whore #1
"I was walking along, minding my own business" photographing "Maggie" dressed in sportwear in a NYC park playground by my apartment on Third Avenue. Not far away is East 100th Street where Bruce Davidson photographed the extreme poverty of 1969 with a 8x10 view camera.
Diagonally across the avenue is a place that use to be called "The Rehibilitation Institute," a halfway house for ex cons. Right next door is a newish apartment building that use to be called "The Emerson" but renamed itself "The Art House" to speed up the gentrification of a neighborhood of housing projects.
This mighty muscular black man approaches me and asks me what kinda camera I'm holding. I tell him it is a Leica SL and that it is a German camera.
"Never seen one before," he says. He introduces himself as "Soloman, and I follow through by giving him my name and asking him his age because Soloman wears no shirt and is totally ripped, but not like a body builder, more like a guy from "American Ninja Warrior." He tells me he is 30 years old and because he has so little fat and a tiny waist he appeared a lot younger.
Then Soloman introduces me to some of his crew who work out with him every day between 5-6. I get invited to join them, and today I will start.
The vibe is kinda cool, urban ghetto with a prison yard vibe. I say much cooler than hanging out by myself in the gym in my luxury building where very few people use the gym.
Pretty much I'll have training partners which really helps to make things a daily routine. I think I will book the slot 5-6 during the week as my time. I feel all flabby from neglecting my body. Only 25% of Americans exercise regularly, and I want to remain one of them.
Last night's shoot I am told is a paying gig, meaning when "Maggie" gets paid I'll also get paid for the photography.
Tonight is some menswear fashion show at The Public Hotel. Afterwards there likely will be some party of sorts. Maggie explained that somehow I got invited/included, but the show begins at 8:00 PM.
Like I said, "I was just minding my own business..."
Wednesday is another shoot involving this store call ed "Fluff" that sells fake furs.
Cal
Diagonally across the avenue is a place that use to be called "The Rehibilitation Institute," a halfway house for ex cons. Right next door is a newish apartment building that use to be called "The Emerson" but renamed itself "The Art House" to speed up the gentrification of a neighborhood of housing projects.
This mighty muscular black man approaches me and asks me what kinda camera I'm holding. I tell him it is a Leica SL and that it is a German camera.
"Never seen one before," he says. He introduces himself as "Soloman, and I follow through by giving him my name and asking him his age because Soloman wears no shirt and is totally ripped, but not like a body builder, more like a guy from "American Ninja Warrior." He tells me he is 30 years old and because he has so little fat and a tiny waist he appeared a lot younger.
Then Soloman introduces me to some of his crew who work out with him every day between 5-6. I get invited to join them, and today I will start.
The vibe is kinda cool, urban ghetto with a prison yard vibe. I say much cooler than hanging out by myself in the gym in my luxury building where very few people use the gym.
Pretty much I'll have training partners which really helps to make things a daily routine. I think I will book the slot 5-6 during the week as my time. I feel all flabby from neglecting my body. Only 25% of Americans exercise regularly, and I want to remain one of them.
Last night's shoot I am told is a paying gig, meaning when "Maggie" gets paid I'll also get paid for the photography.
Tonight is some menswear fashion show at The Public Hotel. Afterwards there likely will be some party of sorts. Maggie explained that somehow I got invited/included, but the show begins at 8:00 PM.
Like I said, "I was just minding my own business..."
Wednesday is another shoot involving this store call ed "Fluff" that sells fake furs.
Cal
