When I was very young and absurdly anti-social, I remember there was nothing worse for me than when someone wanted to go into a shady looking cafe and have a drink. (They all looked shady to me and none was really.) That, to me, was such a no-no, I think I was way pass twenty when I finally found what the whole point of going out for a drink is and I was about 23 or 24 when I once went out clubbing. Yes, you read that right. Once. I didn't particularly like it. People kept spilling drinks and it was too loud to talk about anything. Eventually everyone got drunk. I simply never understood what the point was. I could never understand what the fun is supposed to be when you're not photographing or having good talks. To this day my clitoris is in my camera. If it can't be photographed, it's not my cup of tea.
I was just thinking about that as I was walking down a loooong street in the Capitol, looking for a place that doesn't serve 3€ coffee (coffee is supposed to be 1.5€), carring my bag of, oh, about 40 pounds, having just shot in a studio for the past three and a half hours... I needed an hour of *me* time to get my baring, before the next task. The next task in a lecture
at five p.m., lasting to nine. I've been up since before sunrise, so one coffee and one hour sit-down is well in order.
We drove in a van, not really meant for humans transport, full of product, constructed of small, sharp pipes. I am awfully unhappy regarding pipes in traffic. There are too many movies where sharp pipes become projectiles and people get plenty impaled. But, the drive was fine, we were only and hour and a half late. We found the studio, which was fine, too. I was worried. My last experience with a studio was a fucking sham. I had no idea what to expect, nor did I worry too much, as it was not on my coin. Thing is, studios can be shitty. They can charge you for the room, but refuse to warn you that it doesn't include the lights, or they include the lights, but you have to hire the guy to help you handle them... I've been in a studio where we paid decent money for two hours and then cables were nowhere to be found, so we didn't complete the shoot in time and had to add another hour to the bill and nobody wanted to do that. But here, the guy was okay. His gear was mighty and he kept asking if he can add stuff, move stuff, construct stuff and I was like, nah, fuck it, I'll just photoshop the shit out of it. Most of the products were basic industrial pics, but one was bitchy, a large, door-like construct, covered in thick dark glass... Which in other words can be called a mirror. It reflected EVERYTHING. I had to climb up a gallery and shoot it with a telelens to avoid room detail. Indeed I danced, crawled, laid down, knelt, climbed ladders and tiptoed plenty :D Can't recall the last time I had so much fun during such a serious shoot. I worried we'll get charged way above the pre-agreed price, but we didn't at all. And one of the boys who helped with the product construction was mesmerized by the magic of a photo-studio, the mighty lights, umbrellas, pulleys, levers, backgrounds, any number of tiny gadgets. I explained to him that if he thinks this is fun, he should come in on a pin-up session :)) I know now a good studio is a ridiculous investment, but also that I've done fine without it and when I'll get enough reasons, I'll just hire the place for a day and get it out of my system.
Once it was done, I dragged my tired, sorry ass, bag on my back like a turtle shell, across the city, chatting on the phone with dad and mum, to whom I reported, (the people I always call when I am in between moods, as I can never predict what mood they'll put me in once the talk is finished...) in search of a place where I could sit down for a coffee and write all about it :) The General bought me bagels and chocolate and an energy drink, but forbade me to spend any lunch money on cake and coffee... So we won't tell him I really deserved that cake and coffee. I have about an hour left before the lecture starts. I'm too tired to switch the memory cards in the camera and go out and shoot bits of the city. My head hurts a bit, even though I made sure I hydrated plenty. I'm watching a band of tourists in almost identical travel cases try to fit into a pub called BBQ Kings. An Annie Liebowitz-look alike lady came to the street half of the cafe and unrolled first her small dog's carpet and then her cushy blanket. Smokers, am I right? And someone close by is talking in vehement Italian. The day has been quite lovely, actually. Half done, half to go :)
