23 Portraits: Amy

Amy is the quintessential corner dry cleaner lady.  She is the eyes and ears of our little corner of the Castro.  You may think her shop-o-shirts is unassuming, but she knows everything & everyone, don't be fooled!  She's the one who told me the real scoop on Marchese Pasquale, the man who died in our apartment two Christmas Eves ago. She was there when the man on our street got held up at gunpoint (sorry mom, pretend you didn't read that!), and she knows when anything is awry.  Amy (my roommate) and I tend to lock ourselves out quite often, so we finally got the brilliant idea to give Amy (dry cleaner) a key.  (This saved me just last week)  She receives everyone's packages from UPS when we are not home, she makes sure the landlord's mother gets her laundry done, she knows everyone's name...She is like a dry cleaner version of Cheers.  Everyone loves Amy.  My friend and neighbor Bryan once said, "She's magic, because if you have a laundry problem, she makes you think it's very difficult to fix, like she might not be able to do it... and you worry..."  He laughs,  "Then, you go to pick it up, and it's perfect, and she just smiles..."  

Amy.

Portrait 22: A walk with Lane

The first time I met Lane, he was in a red & white polka dot dress, and I was hula hooping to Britney Spears.  We have adored each other ever since.  

He is this rare combination of ridiculous, brilliant, real, nonchalant, and inspiring.  We have seen each other in beautiful rawness, in deep despair, and in celebration. Through it all, we laugh with (and at) each other...well, I think he laughs at me more, but I secretly like it.  He is one of my favorite people, and someone I would trust to save us all in the apocalypse.  

I love his matching tattoos that he has on his forearms.  They mirror his personality well: Playfully abstract with a deep core of meaning.   

Lane.

Moi: Self Portrait Day 21.

I didn't want to go out tonight.  It was late, I had returned from a trip & I was tired. But, dammit, I didn't get a portrait... I decided I would make this Self Portrait Day.  I poured a glass of chardonnay and set up the lights & tripod upstairs.  I had the place to myself, so I put on some music, and was looking forward to experimenting with this.  

Self portraits are a curious thing.  You can experiment with expression, poses, lighting, and get into different characters because there is no one watching you, no one judging... but then something happens:  You realize that you, yourself start to criticize. You are looking straight into the eyes of your worst critic, and she comes on strong, She sees the lines in your face, she points out how you are not like those models in the magazines, she cringes at the still frames that capture the side of yourself that you try to hide when you walk out your door, and she tells you these are what the world sees... Then you begin to have this conversation between your two selves;  the critical one and the one who adores you.

At the end of it all, your wine glass is empty, you turn off the lights, and you find that there are photos you love, photos you hate, and photos that just exist.  You see that ego is a delicate creature, and realize that none of these photos define you.  They all just exist as a slice in time, and you make of them what you will... I fell asleep happy to have experienced the roller coaster of emotions that came from my portrait session. I think it's a good thing to do every so often, to see the various sides of you so that you can fight for the adoring side to win.  Because no matter what imperfections you see, you are still a beautiful soul, growing older in this world, and like my mom always says, "it beats the alternative." 

Shelly.

Portrait of a woman: Day 20

This is Carol.  I met her as I was exiting my stroll through the beautiful fall walkways of a park in downtown Portland.  She was sitting there sipping on her coffee, just admiring the world around her, lips curled up just enough to show that she was thinking:  "Life is beautiful."  She's lives in that building right across the street there, and has been coming here to this corner every day since she moved there ten years ago.  "I've lived in Portland for 70 years!" she said proudly.  "There's nowhere else on earth I'd rather be than right here."  I smiled as I said good bye & walked into the crisp Oregon air, and everyone I passed on my way to the hotel could see the glimmer in my eye that said:  "I am in love with this life!"

Carol.

PP19: Swap Guy

The swap meet is our favorite place to meet.  He introduced me to it over 10 years ago, and it has been "our spot" to start Dario & Shelly Day ever since.  We go with a wish list, and many times we end up walking out with at least half of what we were looking for...the other half being things that a) we were not looking for, and b) we definitely did NOT need.  But that's the fun of it all... What deals can you find, what treasures are lurking at the bottom of those boxes, what can you do with that life-sizes mannequin...

The best .25 cents you'll ever spend is in Oakland, seeking out guilty pleasures amongst the myriad of familiar faces behind the clutter.   

Portrait at 39,000 ft.: Day 18

Lately, I've been seeing his face around all the various airport terminals...This big guy who always has a smile on his face, moseying to his next flight, and you just know he'd be great to fly with.  Last week, I finally got the pleasure of having Ludi on my crew, and for 4 days, all we did was laugh.  

My complete adoration of this man began when the safety video began.  Virgin just debuted it's brand spanking new safety video:  a song & dance video.  Now, the higher ups have tried to encourage us to "have fun with it", dance along, "make it your own" kinda thing.  I don't know what I expected, as this was my first time working a trip since the new demo was released.  To my delight, I looked to the front of the cabin after starting the video, and saw Ludi, smiling away, bouncing to the music, and making every single passenger in first class (and half of those in main cabin) cheer, smile and bounce along with him.  I knew this was going to be a good trip.

He was a great sport with the video every time, watching Rhonda and I dancing along with him in the back and laughing at the hilarity of it all.  (Secretly, I think he enjoyed it!)

I enjoyed capturing Ludi in the jump seat drifting in silent thought staring out the window, and I wondered what he was thinking... Most likely, he was just wondering when I would be finished taking my 50 photos of him, but I like to think he was day dreaming about being back in the Philippines and showing off his dance moves.  

Ludwig. 

Portrait Day 17: My Dear Dario

Where do I even begin?  Honestly, I'd need an book the size of the Pacific to describe all of the adventures and stories that Dario and I have been through.  There are few people on this planet as unique as he is, and even fewer that are as loyal of a friend.

I met Dario because Chase, Matty, and I shared a whisky & coke in the back of a 757. We fell in love with each other instantly, and the next week I moved in with the three of them and six others at a little crash pad in Kew Gardens, NY.  LIttle did I know what I was in for... How much we would laugh, how many wheels of Portugese cheese he would feed me, how many practical jokes he would attempt at my expense, or how much I would love him.  

We have ridden the streets of Amsterdam together (and gotten lost), gone on veggie diets then pigged out at Argentinian steak houses, scoured the endless rows of vendors at the Oakland swap meet for things we don't need, and ridden pantless on the Muni, amongst a million other moments over the past 15 years.  Dario is my friend, my rock, and my partner in crime.  He'll walk through airport security with a gigantic rubber ducky for me and not bat an eye.  But he will always regret the Whale!...

Dario.

Portrait Project Day 16: On da sea

We walked on the ferry going from Vallejo to SF and immediately I saw her.  She was fumbling around the bar, looking as if it may have been her first day.  She was so vibrant and edgy, and I knew she was the one for PP16.  Mayu and I found a table by the window, stowed our bags in the cravasses where the seats met, and decided to treat ourselves with a glass of wine for our bay crossing.  She greeted us with her vintage glasses and red lips, a bit flustered but all smiles none the less.  The wine seemed to have been in a mystery door which she could not find, so we happily changed our order to a couple of IPAs.  Mayu nudged me to take her photo, but I just thanked her and we walked back to our cozy nook and watched as we pulled away from the harbour.  20 minutes out from the City, I finally got my mojo, grabbed my camera, and walked back to the bar (where she was still trying to find where the hell the wine was).  I told her about my project, and said she had great style & I'd love to photograph her.  With a flattered smile, she agreed, and we started chatting.  "Are you new here?"  I asked.  "Yeah, this is my third trip!" she exclaimed.  "I used to be a commuter for three  years on this route, so I got to know the owner.  One day he offered me a job, so now I'm here & it's great!"  I asked her if she ever gets sea sick and she said no, she just loves being out on the water.  I told her I worked for the airlines and her face cringed as she told me how she can't fly because of her ears.  At first I felt sorry for her, but then I realized that on the water is exactly where she is supposed to be.  As I left the bar, I thanked her and asked her name.  

"Ariel"  she said.  Wow, how fitting.  

Ariel.

Brass Tax & the skipped Day 13 of Portrait Project 2013.

This is officially PP Day 13.  How could I skip it?!  This was one of my very favorite days of the whole year.  Brass Tax's post-Halloween party at a stunning park in the Oakland hills.  As the costume month wound down, we all gathered for one last hurrah, and danced our asses off on this crisp, sunny day filled with good friends, righteous DJs, and one huge water fountain (that only one dog jumped into).  

This is Sam.  Every time I turned around, Sam happened to be there... with this devilish smile and piercing eyes.  So, out of all the mayhem, funnery, and weirdness of the day, Sam gets the prize for capturing the #13 spot.  I don't know when he will appear again, but I know one day soon when I turn around, Sam will be standing there with that same spark in his eye.  

Sam.

Jim: Portrait Project Day 15

"If something starts rolling away from me now, I don't run after it, I just let it go." 

Creases and deep lines in all directions are peeking through the dust and grime that he has accumulated on his face while working the tractor all morning. When you first see Jim, you notice the fifty shades of brown that cover his weathered frame.  Then he says hello, and the lines fade, and you realize you are in the presence of a stellar human being, humbled by that very dirt and those rays of sunshine.  As we chat about taking a photo he says "Some people wake up in the morning and wonder how they look, spend a lot of time trying to make themselves look good.  I just wake up and go to work."  I get a flash of myself in the morning and how I do indeed worry about how I look, to myself and to others.  He continues, "And those people who don't care, they can spend that time doing so many other things with their day."  It has never really occurred to me just how much time we waste making ourselves up before we can ever go out and live our passions.  "The ones in Hollywood who care way too much, well, they are missing out on a lot don't you think?"  

I asked to take a shot of his hands, as they were so full of character, and he said "Sure" without hesitation.  My lens zoomed down to his humble hand and through the viewfinder I see his finger missing at the knuckle.  Embarrassed for seeming insensitive, I spurted out "Ah, wow, er, what's the story behind your finger?"  He smiled, laughed, and shook his head, gathering together the details from a day 35 years ago.  He colorfully told us his story while we stood in a circle around him on the top of the hill, captivated.  It all came down to moments in which he thought he could change something that was clearly out of his control.  We all nodded our heads in agreement when the metaphor became overwhelmingly clear:  "Yeah, if something starts moving away from you on it's own inertia, just let it go!"  

Jim.

My JS: Mayu, Day 14

She is my JS.  We laugh at how I am her AS.  I tell her just don't add another S, or make sure it's A-dot-S-dot.  We became sisters in 2007 when our mom turned 60 and brought us all together for a party at her home in Napa.  Gayle was her American Mommy, and my Mother-in-law.  I've never been married, I just fell in love with her son's photo in the galley of a 757 and we've been MIL and DIL ever since.  I know, this sounds like I have sniffed too much glue.  It's really just a sweet story of how we, who have chosen this odd life of flying, share a deep and rich river that make us into family.  

Mayu has one of the sweetest, purest souls of anyone I know.  She makes you laugh just by listening to her laugh, and you can't help but to smile when she speaks her "Janglish" while holding her glass of chardonnay with her delicately painted glitter nails, telling tales of love and travel.  I knew my portrait of Mayu had to include a glass of wine.  She loves wine.  She is a certified sommelier in Japan, just for fun.  I love this photo of Mayu because you see through the glass of wine to her gaze, but she is in fact the one who is seeing right through you.

Portrait of a Photographer: Day 12

Jen is one of those pivotal people in my life.  I've watched her command wedding family photos as if she were King Kong...and she's 5'2 on a good day.  She's one of the best in the business, and if you are lucky enough to call her your friend, she's there for life.  

The month before I met Jen, I had finally decided to throw down the money to attend art school.  Brooks Institute to be exact, probably the most expensive and amazing photography program in the U.S.  Three weeks later, I made a pact with myself:  Don't go.  Wait.  See if you can apprentice and learn from photographers here for one year. Then, I promised myself, you are allowed to spend eighty grand if you want.  It was really the first time I had ever shown patience for a goal.  Then things started happening...

Jen and her husband Dave walked up to my tasting station.  I had just started my job as a wine rep and was working an event in the city.   They drank, we laughed, and somehow her business card came out.  "Your'e a photographer!!"  I yelped.  "If you ever need an assistant please call me!"  She did call, but it was to invite me to some kind of girl's night called SLC where they cooked healthy food and drank wine.  That week I showed up with a roller board filled with a dozen wines I had opened from my 'work week', and a bowl of fried chicken wraps.  "Shit!  I forgot it was supposed to be healthy!"  I was mortified at my mistake.  "What does SLC stand for anyway?" I asked. With a devilish smirk in her eye she answered, "Sensible Lifestyle Club...but it's kind of morphed over the years and now we like to call it Sexy Ladies Club!"  And with that, I was hooked.  

I started shooting with Jen later that month, and by the next season we were a magical duo shooting over 30 weddings together.  She always took time to teach me, let me experiment with my shots, and give me feedback.  She was patient and excited to help me grow.

Ultimately, I can say that Jen is the reason that I morphed from a girl who liked to take pictures, into a photographer.  

Jen.

Hitchhiking Joy: Portrait Project day 11

I used to live on Mt. Tam, and every year I would get up to watch the Dipsea racers bolt past my place on their way up & over the mountain range to Stinson Beach.  I always swore I would enter the race one day, but time flew by and now that I live in the city I don't get reminded of it anymore.  So when my friend asked me if I wanted to come on a training run with him, I squealed a little & happily said yes!  Our plan was to run the Dipsea, have brunch at the bottom, and catch the shuttle back to Mill Valley. When he picked me up that morning he said, "Oh, one glitch; the shuttle doesn't run today...but I figure we'll just hitch hike back."  Instantly, my mind was reliving the days in Europe when my girlfriends and I would giddily set out on the road with our tiny little backpacks, thumbs meekly pointed up, our hearts pounding with anticipation.  Yet now, even though we were only in Marin, my heart still skipped a beat thinking about what adventure we could have during our 15 minute ride up the winding road from the water.  

"Do you mind the dog?" She said to him in the back.  I couldn't even see a dog from the front seat where I slid.  I turned around to look and still caught no glimpse, so I assumed it was a little shitzu or other tiny dog shivering in the corner like little dogs do. The three of us immediately started sharing stories of hitch hiking escapades from our pasts, speaking as if we were already long time friends heading off on a road trip together. Then it turned to our gay friends and how her best friend had just moved to "pardon me, Fucking Florida!"  Recently she had met a new gay neighbor and was tickled about it.  Her raspy voice had a tinge of an accent, (New Jersey, we pondered?) her eyes confident behind her classy sun glasses.  She asked about us, "You guys married?"  "No."  "Well you should be!"  She pulled over to let us off, and I asked if I could take her photo.  "Do you want Teddy in the picture?" she asked, as she opened up the hatch back, pouring out this enormous mountain of curly brown fur onto the road.  Teddy definitely gets the best behaved huge dog award.  He plopped down in the dirt next to our Jersey lady and I swear he smiled at me.  "What's your name?"  I asked her.  "Joy"  she said.  And that she was!  

Teddy & the Castro(s): Portrait day 10

Halloween night, 5:30 pm, I am in my jammies on the couch, eyes half mast from pure exhaustion and ready to head upstairs to bed... Then the realization hit me.  I haven't taken my portrait yet today.  

If you're wondering if I made a typo with the time, no.  I did not.  My air hostess wake-up call was at 4 am.  East coast time.  I had tossed and turned for the entire 4 hours I had dedicated to sleep. Maybe it was because of all the zombie movies and Walking Dead episodes that I had been watching earlier, or maybe my head was spinning with the tales from Nick of exhumations and corpses a few hours before.

Knowing what I had to do, and feeling like a zombie myself, I slowly dragged myself upstairs, got dressed, and threw my camera around my neck.  As I was heading out the door, I saw that my roommate Amy was also leaving, so I tagged along with her & we wandered the streets of the Castro in hopes of observing the lovely weirdness that is the Castro on a day like today.  

We ended up, as Amy & I typically do, at a bar.  Our new favorite one called Dante with our new favorite bartender named Teddy.  Amazingly enough, Teddy's costume was an airline pilot.  Laughing with zombie eyes, we ordered a drink and shared the irony with him.  I should have just kept my uniform on.  Asking to snap a photo of him before I fell asleep on the barstool, Teddy started asking me about cameras and photography. This perked me up a bit, and I asked him what kinds of things he was interested in photographing.  He just pulled out his phone and slid it in front of me.  The home screen was a shot of a beautiful old classic car, blue with white trim, sitting in the streets of Cuba.  "This.  I want to go back home and photograph all the cars before the embargo is lifted and they go away."  Photography is his way of not letting his home & his culture slip away, even though he is making his new life with us here in the Castro.  And therein lies the greatest irony of all.   

Portrait from the graveyard: Day 9

When I arrived at the hotel last night in Newark, I knew I only had a short window to capture my portrait for the day.  The sun was setting soon, and after that I would be forced to find someone inside the hotel... not my first choice.  It dawned on me that there was this graveyard just outside that people have been telling me about.  I took a moment to ask the universe for something special...maybe a grave digger or something outrageously cool like that.  I changed quickly, grabbed my camera, and headed out into the brisk evening.  Walking around the corner, it looked desolate.  This cemetery was not your grand kind grassy fields and beautiful flowers everywhere.  It was basically a brown patch of land with stones thrown down as pathways between the scattered headstones laid in the ground.  There were gaggles of geese pecking at the ground and dusty fake bunches of flowers deteriorating into the dirt.  Then I heard something, it was a man working....no, digging!!  Oh my God, I was staring across the graveyard right at a real live bonafide grave digger!  I think I scared him (ironically) because I made a b-line straight across the yard, stood a foot away and eagerly spat out "hello!!!!"  He stopped and looked at me, a bit confused.  I said "What are you doing?  Are you digging a grave?!"  I laugh at myself now, seeing how crazy this sounded.  He told me he was replacing an old head stone with a new one.  I asked his name and if I could take his picture.  His name is Nick, but shyly he shook his head no to the photo.  Ugh, I was devastated!  A grave digger & I couldn't take his photo!  I said "ah ok, that's alright", and walked away, taking photos of the overgrown section around the corner.  Walking through the cemetery, I looked up and saw a puff of smoke coming from the building.  I knew what it was.  I stared at it, watched the black particles rise and disappear into the falling night, wondering who it was, what their soul was like, did it notice me down below watching it leave this world?  On my walk back, I noticed a figure walking towards me... It was Nick!  Excitedly, (but not too much this time) I said "Hey Nick, how's it goin'?" That was the beginning of the next 30 minutes of electric conversation about exhumations, 911, fear of flying, tornados, and people across the planet from us who look at the same moon... "Isn't that crazy," Nick said, "they are so far away, but we are all looking at the same moon".   

Nick.

PP:6 aka Babies!

 Tonight was the birthday party of one of my very dearest friends Jen.  She's a new mom, along with pretty much every other friend she has...except for me.  Just kidding, me and one other person.  Ok, maybe two.  Anyways, I don't get to see Jen as much as I did when I was her wedding season second-shooter extraordinaire, but when I do nothing's changed.  She still loves good beer, a good laugh, and appreciates good friends.  Most of my friends in the city are single, so I'm not used to opening the door to a party and finding more little bald people than tall people... well, in most cases...  It seemed the obvious choice for my portrait project today was babies.  This is day Six, and it could not sweeter than three brand new dads with their baby girls.  I couldn't choose just one, so here are all three little gals with their favorite man person.  

Dave & Mary:  Dave & Ava

Russ & Jillian

PP:5

Halloween almost seems like cheating here.  But hey, when you find good faces like this, it's impossible to resist.  This is Gem.  Short, she says, for Gemini Ginger Dilema.  She was part of a great group at The Mix yesterday who called us over when they saw a Unicorn and a Shark walk into a bar... (insert your best joke here)  She smiled for me early on, but I snuck this photo just before we left and it's the one making it into Day Five's portrait project 2013.  

Portrait Project: Day Four

Waiting for the gate at SEA, sipping my pumpkin spiced soy latte, I hear "Shelly, Look." What I see was, well, priceless.  He's grooving to the music on his ipod, eyes closed loving life, with his backpack on.  His R2D2 backpack.  Arms covered in tattoos, oversized black t-shirt & baggy plaid shorts.  He is in his element waiting for the plane.  I had to be nudged...ok, practically pushed, to go up to him before they called his boarding group.  He was a little surprised that i told him I'd love to photograph him.  Smiled and said his name was Ernesto.  I asked him to hold up his backpack, and asked him how long he had it & did he have any more?  "Yeah!  I've had this for three years!  I also have C3PO, Darth Vader, Chubacca..."  Just then they called his row and we smiled and walked to the boarding door.  This project is unfolding in ways that I didn't really expect at first.   This contact with "others" is making me feel less like an Other and more like One.