Today I decided to go down to the river and shoot some pictures of the bridge. I packed my camera bags and loaded up the dogs in the Jeep. Since we got flooded a couple of a weeks ago the ground is cracked with a mix of dry and wet mud, either way your foots going to stick or slide when you’re walking. Everything was going fine, beautiful day, cool wind, blue skies, and enough potential for a pretty picture. That is until Rufio channeled his inner superman.
We were standing at the bank, Tink and Mattie were off chasing eachother around weaving through the trees, Rufio was looking out to the river in the same direction I was. Next thing you know, the corner of my eye I see Rufio leaping from the bank INTO the river (which mind you does in fact have a pretty decent current because of the wind). In the mist of my screaming “nooooooooo” and being startled I lost my footing and slid down the bank……into the river……with my camera.
I held my camera high up in the air as I splashed into the most muddy, yucky, river water I could imagine feet first as I was grabbing on to every piece of root I could feel for to stop me from sliding. This is when being 6’2 really came in handy. I didn’t know how deep the water would be since our recent rain and I was praying where I was falling into I’d have some kind of sand bank. Where I landed, I hit on top of a rock and a spare tire. The water came up to my chin and the only part of my camera that got touched by water was my neck strap. When the realization hit me that I was actually in the river holding my camera up like the statue of liberty, it also made me remember how I got into the river in the first place. Rufio.
I looked around and here was Rufio, cruising around in his dog paddle surfing the current AROUND me having fun and dunking his head in and out. I tossed my camera up the bank (at this moment I’d rather take the chance of breaking a piece then water damage) and swam to the lowest part of the bank. Rufio followed me the entire way having the time of his life, as I was on the brink of tears worrying about what disease I was currently contracting with each breast stroke.
When all was said in done, I was soaked in the most dirty water, freaking out, and hands deep in mud. As for Rufio? He decided to join Tink and Mattie in the chase game and was running around like nothing even happened. My camera ended up being unharmed, just had mud splatter on my lens and LCD screen, it worked properly and I ended up tossing it into a patch of grass that softened the blow.
What I could take from this is never bring my dogs with me again when I decided to go shooting, but even at my expense and my cameras expense I have never seen Rufio more thrilled in my life. Maybe next time I won’t be so lucky, but during that next time I’ll be more cautious to my surroundings. I’m also thankful I left my phone in the Jeep instead of having it in my pocket, because we all remembered what happened last time my phone was around a river.
In summary: if you’re a professional photographer, studying photography in school, or are otherwise pondering it as a career … you might want to consider downgrading your passion to a hobby. Either that or you better be damn good. Man this sucks.
Or you pick a career that incorporates photography in some way. Professional Photography in some sorts is like the NBA, very few get drafted to play in the big show. But just because you’re not the Kobe Bryant of the photography world doesn’t mean you don’t have a career in it. There are other aspects that you can dabble in.
I knew being a full time photographer wasn’t going to help me put a roof over my head with such easy access to DSLR photographers just on flickr alone, so I beefed up my other skills to help me mold a different career path that also includes being a photographer. Sometimes remixing your Plan A Plan B and Plan C together is the best idea.
“All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, “Oh, why can’t you remain like this for ever!” This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end.”—Peter Pan
I hate that shit. Don’t tell me we need to talk when you’re not planning on talking until hours later. I’m going to be spending the entire day driving myself nuts wondering what you have to say, and thinking the worst. And I’ll consider you a real asshole for putting me in that situation.
I'm going to be doing photography at University in the summer and was wondering if you had any tips on how to go about working as a free lance to get some extra cahs to support myself whilst I'm studying?
Well good luck in the summer first thing. Tip wise, I can tell you what I did to sustain income when I went to school.
I mingled with local hip hop artists in Atlanta, went to clubs, bars and open mic nights and dropped them my business card. I shot a couple guys for free, than they spread my name out. Eventually free turned into 50 buck here and there shoots, and then those 50 buck shoots turned into a shit load of money. I was one of the go to girls in Atlanta for press kit pictures or album covers.
Bands/Musicians are really great about spreading your name and using you again for follow up shots. The free photoshoots I did were for musicians who had a large following, they got my name out quicker, I helped them out, they helped me out. It’s all about networking with the right people. Those were the people that paid my bills, and I also had a great time and met a lot of awesome people in the underground hip hop music scene.
I’m not expecting many people to remember this song, especially a 1986 song, but I was stuck on the elevator for 5 minutes and this was playing the entire time. It took every strength in my body to not spin around with my hands out and belt out the chorus.
Who will look the best after the break up, who will be the first to date, and who is better off with out the other. I don’t care who you are or how much of a secure person you project, these notions do cross your brain.
And it feels great when you realize you’re the one that’s winning the competition.
You’d think it be different, but now I understand why most artists keep themselves depressed, more inspiration. It wasn’t like I was unhappy to begin with, I was content with everything I was doing, but I was just more aware of the things that pissed me off to the point of having to write it down.
I got sunshine shooting out of my ass, maybe i’ll be able to translate that into a blog one day, but until then I think pictures do it justice for the time being.