The Pleasure is Always - JPG Photos

Please click on the link below to vote for my photo, The Pleasure is Always, in the "Unexpected Perspective" photo challenge by JPEG Magazine. The picture was taken with a Rebel 2000 (35MM)

The Pleasure is Always - JPG Photos

Three Cats and an Apple: the series

The following images were taken with the Rebel T1i.



Three Cats and an Apple




Three Cats and an Apple in the Dark




.....in Soft Glow



Three Cats Encounter of the Third Kind



Three Cats in Profile

Room to Breathe

It was October, 2006, and I had decided to fly to New York for the weekend. There was no particular motivation for the trip except that I could swing it financially and felt I needed more adventures and experiences.

I booked a flight with then-newcomer Jet Blue Airines and found a single room in a hostel on the Upper West Side. Of course, I had no specific plan; in New York, it's nearly impossible to adhere to an itinerary unless one spends time there regularly. I had always thought Coney Island sounded like a cool place, so I did some research via the internet, which led me to the official Coney Island website. The site informed me that the amusement park was closed for the season. There were, however, events taking place year-round, which included parades, burlesque shows, and a summer film series. There even happened to be a film festival the weekend of my trip, which sounded awesome, and I kept in mind as a plan.

What I couldn't know was the impact this trip would have on me as an artist. Having bought a Rebel 2000 from a good friend a few months previously, I had spent some time taking photos with great but had yet to think of myself as a photographer. I had bought the camera specifically to photograph some jewelry I had made, but quickly realized that the perfect photo was just about everywhere.

Saturday morning, I roamed the Upper West Side for a while before taking the train to Brooklyn. The train ride took about an hour; I marveled at the vastness of the city as it grew smaller, wondered what kind of life there was inside the buildings we passed, and who the graffitti artists were who knew the rairoad tracks at night.

At the end of the E line is Coney Island. It's easy to find from the doors of the train station, just around the corner or across the street depending on which exit one uses. The weather was overcast but in the sixties and climbing.

I found the film festival easily; a group of people in studded denim, leather and erratic hairstyles, some of which had serious camera equipment, stood on the sidewalk in front of a doorway to the Coney Island Museum. I went to the doorway closest to where they stood, where a small sign indicated that a film festival was in progress.

The Coney Island Museum is on the second floor of a strip building which takes up one block and houses amusements such as bumper cars, concession stands and a small flea market. The stairs leading up are painted in carnival colors with the names of the park rides. A door on the landing says "Coney Island Museum" in freehand, while underneath, in bigger letters, is painted "NO PHOTOS, TOUCHING OR SMOKING".

I entered a long room which contained several counters, display cases, and a table. A revolving wire rack, offering Coney Island postcards, stood on a counter. People milled around and got some networking in before the next feature, "My Life as an Underdog". A man serving as cashier told me the film was shown in another room and pointed to a doorway curtained in black.

I had a little time before the film, so I headed to the women's bathroom, which was in the front part of the building. The bathroom was L-shaped, roomy and felt....friendly. Two stalls were on the left, with tall doors that left big spaces between themselves and the floor. Spring closures on the stall doors made them close with a bang. The sink was located on the wall which faced the street. Large, uncurtained windows allowed natural daylight to flood the room.

A dressing mirror faced the window. Light sockets, containing no bulbs, were built in to the mirror's frame. A block-style table served as a seat or shelf. Old magazine pages advertising soap were taped to the white cracked tile walls. In the corner were a mop and bucket. The place seemed to be an all-purpose restroom, utility closet and dressing room.

After the film, I went back to to the women's bathroom and took one photo of the mirror. As with many photos I snapped at the time, I shrugged to myself. I felt something special there, but maybe I was just a dreamer.

When the picture was developed, I realized I did the right thing. But not only did I see an image, I saw women from another time in front of the mirror; a young blonde in a slinky black dress stood against the white tile wall, laughung at her friend, an older brunette, who sat on the table. The older woman appeared to be entertaining the younger one with a story, and both wore pink feather boas.