Went down to Waikiki with the Leica, the 35mm, and a pocket full of film. Actually it was only three rolls of film.
I came across two women lounging in the sand when I spotted their tiny little baby wiggling on the blanket. His size, serenity and pale skin amazed me. All this stuff was going on around him and he dozed away as if nothing else mattered.
Seeing what I shot most often than not is beyond me. What I mean is sometimes, the mechanics of photography, the focus, composition, etc…just flow around me and disappear into the mist of my subconscious. Yes, yes…this sounds like a bit of bull but I can’t explain why I see and capture what I do. After getting film back from the lab and doing my edits, I find myself sometimes returning to this unique archetype of style that I see. I took an art class in University and the professor would remark at my graphical sense of composition. It was stuff I never understood or studied but opened my eyes to see what I saw.
Does that make sense?
Why I am struck by this picture of the kid crawling under the rails is not so much the starkness of the ocean, the emptiness of the beach, but the lines that all form and fall into place. I didn’t see it…it wasn’t as if I lined up the camera this way. It just happened. Something subconscious took place inside my head and I just pulled up the camera and snapped.
These two girls were watching the multitudes of swimmers swelling away in the surf near Queen’s Beach. It was a nice day and the light fell really nice on them.
Now this girl was classic…she was a bit of an odd ball and I have seen her around a few times…at least I think I have. She’s covered in a few tattoos and she was parading around in a very very tiny string bikini. Her front didn’t leave much to the imagination either. We came across her and I first thought she was completely naked. Nudity isn’t de rigueur on the beach nor are Brazilian bikinis. Most girls are a bit more modest if modesty counts on the beach and wear fairly fleshy suits but she really kicked it up a notch.
She was chatting with some guy entranced by her peep show. She must have known her g or string or what ever its called was slowly advancing to the point of no return. She couldn’t have cared less. Neither did he.