Let me take you to the dark side. Meet ‘K’. A young man wandering aimlessly down a city street. One of many. He’s not big on conversation but his eyes tell long, deep, brooding tales. This face will haunt me for a while. But wait…

Tomorrow I will bring you the face of hope for the ‘K’s’ of the world. Hang on.

Washing your hands is the single greatest thing you can do to prevent the spread of disease. http://www.cdc.gov/handwashing/  When Derreck Kayongo arrived in the United States as a refugee from Kenya he was put up in a hotel. He noticed the bars of soap were thrown away after very little use. Coming from a country where disease was rampant due to poor hygiene conditions, Derreck immediately saw a brilliant pairing of need and opportunity. Thus was born the Global Soap Project. http://www.globalsoap.org/  They collect soap from hotels and reprocess it into new bars that are then distributed to vulnerable populations throughout the world.

Here he is in the Atlanta warehouse keepin’ it clean.

The Universe delivers again! Meet Wyn. Spending his Memorial Day on a street corner with the American flag. A charming and friendly guy, Wyn showed me a few souvenirs he brought back from Viet Nam. An eighteen inch gash across his stomach from mortar fire, stab wounds in his left arm from hand to hand combat, and three bullet holes in his right leg. Oh yeah, and no teeth. It was a busy intersection near a highway overpass so we moved about sixty feet to have a more jungle like background reminiscent of Nam. Turns out, that’s where Wyn lives. 

Curious that there’s a ton of money when they’re showing him how to fire an M-16 but not so much help when he comes home full of holes from the rich man’s war. Exactly where is the embarrassment threshold of the Department of Defense? Oh, I forgot. Follow the money.

I grew my first mustache when I was nineteen. I didn’t see my upper lip again until I was, oh, around fifty. There were many facial hair configurations along the way….short beard, long beard, close cropped, handle bar, you name it. Fashion whore that I am, I had to keep up with the trends. So, when I spot a guy like Steve from S.D. Meadows Folk Art Gallery https://www.facebook.com/pages/SD-Meadows-Folk-Art-Gallery/254331081247295?sk=info  I have to stop because I know how it feels to have that thing on your face. We met at the Decatur Arts Festival http://decaturartsfestival.com/ as he was emerging from the Porta-Potty. He was all about doing a photo but we agreed to find a better background. Steve led me back to his space and introduced me to his ‘self portrait’. I get it.

Woke up with this in my head……

I don’t know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can’t react
And games that never amount
To more than they’re meant
Will play themselves out

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We’ve still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You’ll make it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can’t go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I’m painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It’s time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We’ve still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice

You’ve made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I’ll sing it loud

I am so mad at myself. I’ve violated one of my mantra’s: Under your nose. For years I’ve walked my home street and seen, acknowledged and made small talk with Tom.  But never engaged and scraped below the surface. Shame on me! Today we spent time together and also invited Ollie, his parrot to join in the fun. Tom is an artist, architect and collector. Let me stop here and explain a detail of the nature of this project. I dive in to the unknown. Never knowing what the environment will offer up. Many times my problem is having nothing interesting to work with. Quite the opposite today, which stumped me even more. Every square inch of his house was packed with interesting things from Peruvian artifacts to a Matisse painting, to exotic birds. I limit my time so as to force start the creativity, but panic can set in.

I’m telling you, for your own good, break the ice. Don’t let things pass you by. Treasures await!

Hugo has the best face ever. I just love being around this guy. We first met on a shoot last year and I found him to be  very authentic and spontaneous. With guys like this, it’s all about the face. He showed up today with the full entourage: lovely wife, cutest baby daughter and the in-laws. Fun!!

GROSS!! That is to say, one full gross of days and portraits. Twelve dozen. And nothing makes you slam on the brakes like pink hair and black and white stripes. Small world again, the daughter of good friend of RDP http://www.robertdownsphotography.com/  waiting for the bus.

I first met Gail when we both lived in Grant Park back in the seventies. We bought Victorian houses for less than the price of a used Honda in today’s market. We set about to renovate them and our parents cried. There was a camaraderie that was magical, naive and sincere all at once. Every generation seeks originality. Purpose higher than those who came before. And in the moment, we believe our fantasies. They help us to move forward. A few moves, kids, careers and miscellaneous life hurdles and we find ourselves, once again, living a few blocks away from each other in Decatur. What goes around….

Gail is mostly busy these days consulting and promoting her book ‘The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Low Cost Startups’.   http://www.gailmreid.com/blog/adapting-to-market/the-complete-idiots-guide-to-low-cost-startups-now-on-sale/  In her rare off hours, Gail’s alter ego takes over and makes music.

Today’s story is a truly international one. Rina was born in Japan, emigrated to Alabama, Fell in love with and married a Slovakian, studied the Spanish art of Flamenco with a Swede. Now she teaches and travels to Spain every year to immerse herself more deeply in the art. Apparently, Flamenco is huge in Japanese culture. Who knew? Such a beautiful and powerful form of expression!

So, here’s how the stalking my prey process goes: I get quiet and empty out. Make room for the Universe to drop a few ideas. I was feeling like a grizzly old man on white, Avedon style, might be just the thing for my mood today. Definitely in the studio. Taking my usual route to the studio takes me through Grizzly Old Man Central…L5P. I parked and began the hunt toward a guy I’d seen a moment before when I was passed on my right by a young man in a tye-dyed shirt carrying a violin case. Hmmm, I can be flexible. I called out ‘Hey, fiddler!’ When he turned, I held out my hand and said ‘My name is Jerry, what’s yours?’ To which he responded ‘What’s your last name?’ ‘Burns’ I said. Oh my God! You’re Trevor’s dad! And so it was. Small world again.

As we went to the studio only a few blocks away, I began to churn the possibilities for the image. Upon arrival, I began to get lights up on stands, still thinking about the approach. Not being sure can be fun if you don’t let it scare you. There was another set still up from a Neenah job that had to be moved. Wait! Not here. The roof! Are you ready, Eddie? Out to the deck between buildings and up the ladder to the top of StudioBurns. I give you a 21st century industrial Fiddler on the Roof!