Many years (and less lbs) ago!

Digging through old boxes finds all sorts of treasures from the past. I found an old polaroid taken by a photographer I worked with on occasion, Gilles Bensimon. We were photographing the model/actress Milla Jovovich (5th Element, fashion mags, etc…) for the cover of Elle Magazine. After a long day of setting up lights, pulling 8×10 polaroids, and roll after roll of 120mm film, we got to the end of the day where the photog photographed the crew.

I am standing next to Milla (holding a dog) and I was so much skinner and younger, and in many ways, naive. I don’t mean that in a good way or bad way but just attesting to a state. I was really to stay and live that life but life didn’t have it that way. We ended up in Honolulu. Is it better, well…no…if I had made that life in NYC work…but things are better in their own ways. A new condo and balcony make life so much easier.

Life in New York was a different place for me and a different time. But enough of that. I remember setting up six Profoto 2400ws packs just for the background. Sean was the other assistant and Jeff was the boss. I never fit in but I wasn’t sure if it was just me or the crew. Sean and I stayed friends for years on and we found each other on Facebook recently. Jeff, from what I figured out, is doing his fashion thing in New York. He had that life down. I just couldn’t, as much as I wanted, manage that…just couldn’t be fakey. Maybe they saw threw me. I wasn’t one of them.

I always attributed the high end photography life to being one of the cool kids in high school. No matter how hard you tried, you just didn’t have that je ne sais quoi that it takes. Don’t get me wrong, I was a pretty cool kid. Maybe not the coolest but cool enough. The parties revolved around Paul, Diane, and me…in one way or another…or maybe it was because we knew Diane’s sisters were gonna take care of us. Who knew…you might if you knew me back then.

Either way, I was priming myself for the life of studios, models, big lights, and a life of eternal black/dark clothing. It was hard to shake the black shirts for rubba slippas, but it happened.

Jeff is the guy holding his thumbs up. Life was up at the time. Not as much as I would have liked as I always felt I was just on the edge of making it in the assistant world. No long stints with Annie, Michael, Steven, or Gilies. Just day players with the biggies and dailies with Nathaniels and Stephanies. Life was good at the time but I always wanted more. But now looking back, it was enough. Nathaniel emailed me to congratulate me on the NYT story last week. He’s told me in the past I’m the only past assistant that made something of myself…and to think I made it in Hawaii.

I can’t complain too much but a man can dream…

And to think, I am wearing an old vintage Duran Duran tshirt…maybe thats why I wasn’t cool. Or maybe too cool for the fashion crowd.

New York Times

CLICK HERE FOR THE STORY!

I got a chance to shoot portraits of female surfers on the North Shore for the New York Times. I can’t post the story here other than list the link. I have been doing stories for the NYT for a bit now and they’ve all worked out well. This story was a bit tough because I had to work around a videographer and keep in mind all the stuff that goes on with multimedia.

The video time really shortened the time I had to shoot the surfers. The story was about the changing of the guard with the “older” surfer chic being replaced by the younger babes in the waves. I had to shoot Layne, a 36 year old surfer babe, who the 7 times world champ and I also had to shoot the up and comer Carrisa Moore, a 16 year old HS girl, who is making waves on the waves.

Nice job…reallyl quick, and I had to really had to rely on past knowledge, my sense and instinct to knock out a few good shots. I look at the shots and recall all the stuff I did as an assistant…running up and down with some photographer and a model jumping up and down. So much to remember and so much to define who I am.

The pictures, although not my favorite, really show my growth as a photographer. Its nice to see how I am constantly learning how to be me.

Time Magazine Barack Obama

I got several emails in the last few weeks from friends and strangers alike telling me of my back page shot of Obama and his kids in the Time Magazine Nov. 17, 2008 issue…seems its a commemorative issue and many many many people are gonna be looking at my picture. Actually, the cover, back cover, and back page, imho, are probably the most important…back cover usually an ad so the back page is just as good.

The shot of Obama and his kids on the beach is starting to become legendary. Lets hope my royalties are just as legendary…HA!

Here’s the page…click on the Time Magazine above and it will take you to the actual page.

I also wanted to also make special notice of a picture I recently scanned…its a picture of me…and I don’t usually like to brag on myself but I do say, Patrick Sison took a nice photo. Its not so much me but the fact that his psyche captured a mirror image of me. Patrick is probably the most unsung talented image maker I’ve ever encountered…even in college, Patrick was is the best. I think he has always been in touch with his inner self to capture really amazing pictures. And to think, the bastard was fiddling with my camera at the time on the streets of NYC. I really do miss New York…and Patrick for that matter.

A Native American, a Texan, and a cougar walk into a bar in Molokai


Yeah, kind of a funny start to a joke but its real. We sat three, rather four as there were two Native Americans, no actually three Native Americans…their son and his hot girlfriend…me, the Texan (yeah yeah who lived a long time in New York–more of a New Yorker than a damn Texan these days), and the cougar, all at at the bar in Hotel Molokai last week. The cougar is/was Dr. Psychoanalysis who was a bit scary cause you never know how they view you but really its how you present yourself to them once you know who and what they do. She did give me a good lecture on myself as I did encounter some problems on Molokai that truly perturbed me. More on that later.

The Native Americans proved to be the nicer people you could ever come across in any point in time of life. The father, an ER doc in California, crawled from the depths of a trailer park reservation to make it big time. The wife, of course, caring like anything, and their son, roughly my age but better looking and the gringa girlfriend. She also proved to be a sweet person and emailed me a great picture of the view over Kauai from a hang glider.

You can’t make shots like this…good going girl! They just have to happen. You rocked that shot. Beautiful world.

What I found fascinating about their relationship to the surrounding was the fact that no one from this group seem to be taking anything…sure sure that silly notion of the indigenous connection to land, blah blah blah but in many ways it seems to hold true. The doctor could have been a plastic surgeon or some shallow money making bastard from SoCal in a 500SL, hairplugs and liposuction, but he spent his time working on the city’s poor and needy. Gunshots, stabbings, scaldings, ruptures and whatnot. Real life, giving back to what or where he might recognize.

He also stated the obvious that we do need a national health care system. Funny words coming out of a well to do doctors mouth as he, in all aspects, might cut off his salary but in his views, its best for all than just a select few. I agree and thank you for your presence. I walked away with more than I gave. Wonderful wonderful people.

And to note–their tribe has a casino. The money flows in and flows back to the tribe. Good things for people who suffered so…maybe the state of Hawaii should consider such things but alas, corruption, moral and social conditions might not ever allow such a proposal. I say give them Molokai, put a casino and see life improve. Hell–every Asian who can walk would be in Hawaii gambling! Imagine the tax revenue and the ultimate flithy corruption our corrupt politicos already have….

Four days/three nights might be a more appropriate title for this blog; however, viewers of the new SHUTTERBUGGERY, will see where I am going with my thoughts.

Frommers sent me to Molokai to capture the natural beauty and essence of the island which is known as the most “Hawaiian” of all the Hawaiian islands. There is no major working resort, no slow chugging tour bus, snap happy Japanese, or for that matter, much of anything on Molokai. A friend Jordan, who is whiter than white is 50% (is that right?) Hawaiian–yeah, brah!…told me life on Molokai dances to a different drum. Native Hawaiians who choose to live on Molokai homestead and prefer to live off the land and practice aloha aina…or love of the land.

Molokai is one of those places where you can easily get back to your native roots and forget about the western world and their problems. Sitting on an isolated beach or on top of a Molokai mountain ridge, you can easily forget about the election follies, bailouts, and receding economic the West created and pushed the world into.

Its more than obvious how some people wish and want to live. They’d prefer not to have tourism like what Waikiki developed and to me, Maui is one of the worst as mainland developers cordoned off bits of the coast line making it impossible to visit the beach without going through resort property or paying big bucks to park. Many have said that some of those gorgeous Maui beaches around Wailea never had proper beach access as it remained undeveloped so some might argue it was good to tame and change the environment as it opened up access to many who might not have enjoyed the golden sands of Wailea.

Overall I can see both sides, developers creating and granting (limiting, though) access to the beach while locals stating they can no longer get to the beach cause of development. Funny, lots of local beaches where no tourist are around (or allowed for that matter) are shanty towns of homeless, drug addicts, or the scum of society. A former friend once took me to a former military beach. The base closed and gave the beach back to state control. The garbage bins overflowed, crushed beer cans and glass littered the grass and parking lot, plastic bags floated over the once pristine landscape along with clam shelled take-out boxes, and the oddly enough, the smell of spent diapers filled my nostrils. I’ve been around to many tourist sites in Honolulu and its very easy to find green glass shards of Heineken bottles scattered around. I can guarantee tourist are not tossing their empties on the street, beach, or where ever.

So does development keep the locals from destroying their environment? Does development which brings high paying tourists to the islands keep the locals from tearing up the place?

What tourist wants to go home with a nasty cut on their foot from a broken beer bottle?

So much to argue as most of the people who argue against development are people who were not born on Hawaii. At the hotel bar, I had some rude, caustic woman scream “NO MORE F*CKING PICTURES OF MOLOKAI!” once she found out what I was doing on the island. She claimed us guide books ruined Kauai and gave away all the secret beaches and coves only “locals” knew about. My pictures would do the same for Molokai. I felt honored in a way that I held so much power over her destiny.

Needless to say, this New York woman with the heavy Jewish Long Island accent, worked as a midwife, probably wasn’t married, and would curse you if you didn’t agree with her views or politics…a real liberal democrat if you know what I mean. Sometimes these types are the most intolerant of all. I spoke with another super liberal gallery owner a few weeks back who told me the best merits of Obama was that he was black. I bit my tongue as I though if that’s the best you can muster then you obviously don’t deserve to vote let alone breath this brand of foolishness to others.

The New Yorker bitched an moaned that her secret places were written about and discovered. She claimed perverts were not arriving at these secret places and performing lewd acts in public. Liberals, I should say, or maybe libertines rather.

I don’t know why (I can guess) but Hawaii is filled with hippie liberal super intolerant types who believe they know what is best. New agers who drifted over from West Coast cause they already sullied their past communities. Its as if many of these people floated over from the West/East coast to live some post-Hippie life of isolation, yoga, natural, foods, arts, and this odd embrace of local culture sans the expressos and lattes from Starbucks, the very essence of commercial liberalism. If I were native to Hawaii, I would truly wonder what the hell is wrong with many of these people. Don’t get me wrong, America is vast and wide and if you are an American you should be able to move and live where ever you see fit.

But these intolerant types just fill Hawaii and they seem to be the most vocal when it comes to economic development around the islands. Not to dwell into the specifics of the Superferry, I will say the most vocal and more or less violent protesters on Kauai were white transplants! I scanned the tv screen hoping to see more than just a token local/Hawaiian but they were far and few between when the protest started. These white jackasses hijacked the entire economic agenda of having a inter island ferry which would have helped more (in my opinion) than damaged so many of these subjects they complained about.

I truly wonder what the natives think of these loud mouthed assh*les from the mainland. I know what I think.

Lanai friends who I mentioned in a past posting mentioned there are also others of above class living their protesting and screaming at any positive development which could and will bring jobs/prosperity to a shrinking tourism economy. The island wants to build wind turbines to generate electricity but this small vocal protest group condemned the project just because they could…and throw out excuses like damaging bird migration, noise, etc…all because they don’t want scenic perfect views of paradise destroyed by the demands of the public for cheap energy, jobs, and prosperity for all.

The most damning of them all was a scum low life bastard who had the nerve to confront me and demand I not take pictures of his surf break cause tourist might start showing up and surfing on his/their spot. THIS JACKASS IS A WHITE DUDE FROM THE MAINLAND. AT LEAST THE LOCAL GUYS WHO BEEFED WITH ME TOLERATED MY PRESENCE BUT THIS TRANSPLANT, THIS MALIHINI REFUSED. WHAT A JERK.

Funny I was waiting for Gary Busey to rescue me from the dregs of society.

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As I sauntered back to the bar every evening after a long day of hunting for images and dodging angry transplants and leery locals, I found solace at the bar with my extended family: Mom, Dad, little brother, and sister in law. Oh I can’t forget the cougar. She was the one that made the night entertaining, at least to watch.

Salute!

gulp gulp gulp gulp……………………