A Photo Geeks ups and downs through words and images.
This image reminds me of how fragile time is. Life goes by so fast, and we rarely stop to appreciate the countless moments that have enhanced how we approached things. How we choose to treat people. Today, a brief encounter with a family at the hospital reminded me that intimate moments can remind you of the person you are and choose to be. Seize those moments and place them in a memory bank to be recalled when needed. Simply put, every now and then, we all need reminders of who we really are.
Over the weekend, my wife and me took a trip north to the area of New Jersey we once called home. During those two days we covered a lot of ground and met up with a respectable amount of old friends and loved ones. One, a long time friend and photography mentor met us at a otherwise overlooked Irish spot on Clifton. This friend, one who had met some health issues head on and conquered them was full of life and laughter. He made my wife smile from ear to ear and even knocked my hardened personality back to life. As our meet up began to wind down. He pulled out a coffee table book on the famed photography and directorial icon Herb Ritts While the book served as a priceless token of our friendship. One I can’t imagine I earned. It served as a reminder of my childhood visits to DDB (Doyle, Dane, Bernbach.) where my Mother was a financially struggling secretary.
As a ten year old, it was such a privilege being brought up to the art department where artists and designers were working on the next, best sketch, art piece, or movie poster. The work, along with the artists I met, gave me an early passion and understanding of art that influenced me to draw and ultimately dive into photography. Years later, I was sitting next to a friend catching up on one another’s travels and run ins. The time was short, yet conversations through regular phone calls Kept us up on the important things. As our time came to an end, he revealed a old brown bag. Within, a book to brought back the memories of the apartment I grew up. Yes, we were poor, but my Mom always brought art and art books given to her at work. Things and memories that enriched us in countless ways. Funny how two unrelated stories reflect one another. I guess that’s life.
I fully admit to being a self deprecating prick lately. With my journey being one with it’s share of bumps. I sometimes wonder if overcoming these challenges make me strong or just some sort of punching bag for the Gods. Last weekend we visited Annapolis for the first time in a year and the second overall. It was a busy day in the downtown area as a boat show had the tourists arriving in droves.
Our goal was simple. Return to the landmark diner Chick and Ruths at 165 Main St, Annapolis, MD 21401As to experience that New York City diner atmosphere ad further explore the incredible menu. After a timely wait near the crowded door, we wer seated. As our waitress approached us with her pen and pad…..She welcomed us, saying “Wow. It’s been a long time.” “The last time you were here you had a walker. This time you’ve got that heavy camera bag. Look at you.”
Both my wife and me were shocked. We’d only been to the diner once and it was a year ago. Yet she remembered us as if we were regulars. Aside from being impressed with the womans memory and great service. My wife noted how far I’ve come. It was an incredibly rewarding exchange and one that should help me break out of this self depricating dick malaise. In the end, I’m kind of saying, “Don’t be me.” Give yourself a break. Cut yourself some slack, and plan a trip to Annapolis to experience Chick an Ruths.
Just a few words and a ton of appreciation to my Mother for all her sacrifices, lessons and kindness she’s bestowed upon me over the years. Though there was little money and years without many male role models She made a point of never making me feel that I lacked of anything. Over the years, we’ve had our share of disagreements and arguments but any differences can never overcome our love for one another. Thanks Mom, I love you,
Over the years, it’s become crystal clear that my wife is my staunchest critic and supporter. However, adding her to the creative aspect of it all is both a major distraction and a pain in the fucking ass. As someone who has become more of a landscape and street photographer in recent years. My wife is, more than often, right by my side. Whether it be asking a million question as to what attracts me to a subject or being over protective to my history of risky attempts of capturing a moment. A good example would be yesterdays trip to Richmond and my fascination with photographing many of the downtown murals.When asked about “Photographing other peoples art.” and, basically hijacking someone’s creative energy. When my explanation of both documenting and interpreting my surroundings didn’t communicate the intended message. Explaining that my approach and goal while when shooting is to document the artists work respectfully. While also interpreting and conceptualizing in my own way. Why that might some like bull cookies to many. It’s how I do.
Shared a phone conversation with a good friend I met more than thirty years ago. While we still share many things in common. It’s the bond of friendship and brotherhood that stands above everything. As we grow older, many of us fall into the trap of regret for the things we’ve done and said. I’ve been doing it far too long. I’ve come to realize I want, need, and will change that. Instead, being grateful for the people in my life. The friends I’ve managed to keep and the bond we share. Here’s to a new year full of change, growth, learning and appreciating the many gifts we often overlook.
When I came across this picture of my Mom and me earlier today, it brought back a flood of memories. Many of what a tight unit my Mother and I made. As we get older, we often forget the impact our Mothers have had on the people we are today. How, through kindness and unconditional love, they made us strong. Preparing us for the long road ahead. As we grow, it’s important to remember the sacrifices and selflessness they exercised. Though my Mom could be tough. She always made an effort to shield me from any pain that would come from learning the hard way. Thanks Mom. Your sacrifices have never gone unnoticed.
Having positive role models and heroes are very important when growing up and forming your moral compass. As one who didn’t have very many adult male role models to look up to. I often found leadership and guidance in older friends. Looking back to my childhood, I was fortunate in that I had many older friends to look up to and depend on for the guidance and reassuring that a stoop session or kick in the ass that a not much older, but somehow wiser head could offer.
This morning I was informed that my old friend Jimmy had passed due to a heart attack.
Though I had only reconnected about ten years ago at his fortieth birthday celebration and shortly after at his brother Frank’s funeral, I felt that getting to see both of them and thank both of them for the guidance and support they often provided. While neither Jimmy or Frank understood or remembered the times they went the extra mile to keep me out of the line of fire. I remembered every instance and episode with detail.
I initially met Jimmy and Frank on the corner of ninety-third street and thirty-fifth avenue on the steps that led to Blessed Sacrament Church.
It was where we’d meet to catch the school bus that would deliver us to day camp in nearby Whitestone. Though it would be a few months before the start of the third grade and my inevitable transfer to Blessed Sacrament School. Though at the time, a typical classroom of school was often a Kickstarter when it came to friendship. I credit Marvel Comics and Stan Lee as the common interest that ignited our first, second, and third conversations. Those comic book trading sessions led to a long-lasting friendship that would follow through elementary, high school, and beyond.
No matter the situation. Whether it be a fistfight with a family member of the C.C. Boys or a random street fight, Frank or Jimmy would always be there for crowd control or to make sure it remained a fair fight. A few years later, after being hospitalized with a brain tumor, Frank traveled from Queens to New York City, where I was hospitalized to see if I needed anything. I never shared that with anyone, but it meant a lot to me.
So, with a considerable amount of respect, I say goodbye to another childhood friend and urge anyone who has or had someone that, in one way or another, had a positive influence on you. Find them and thank them though they might not remember. It will more likely have a positive effect on both parties. Thanks again, Frank. Thanks, Jimmy. You both left a positive footprint in my life.
Earlier this morning I received an email from Word Press wishing me a Happy New Year and sending me a personalized report detailing the blogs traffic, most poplar posts and where my visitors are checking in from. I was astounded when I read that in 2011 16,000 people from four different continents visited Photo Geek throughout the year. This was shocking considering I rarely check 
my stats or get many comments on my posts. I’ve run into many friends and strangers who when I give them my business card tell me “Oh my God, I read your blog all the time.” or “You’re that dude?’. It’s pretty weird to say the least. It’s one of the many reasons I still do this.
To tell the truth, it’s one of the longest creative endeavors I’ve been involved with. Knowing that I’m actually reaching somebody is enough to keep me going. Knowing that there’s more than half a dozen of you out there is the icing on the cake.
Thank you and Happy New Year,
The Photo Geek
Photogeek Blog 