GREETING ANGELS

It’s funny how I wanted to start this post with a little recap about the Passover Sedar I was at last week. Every year I marvel at how this tradition has been going on exactly the same way for 6,000 years. I saw some obvious improvements, like how 3D Glasses or a hologram could be used for the Sedar Plate or how the guests could be reading from Kosher IPads instead of the food stained prayer books, or how scenes of the Egyptian Pyramids could be playing in the background on the flat screen. But the best image I think is how lucky I am to still attend these heartfelt silly ceremonies, the exact same way, as when I was a child. Here are my miraculous parents in mid-sentence.

So let’s move on to the adventure I took myself on yesterday. Starting with a stroll through downtown Sarasota, on my way to several events and festivals going on throughout the day. Below is a shot of a girl having breakfast with her family at one of the many sidewalk cafes.

When I stroll, I walk very slowly. I don’t want to miss a flicker or glimmer of any moment that might occur while I have my finger on the shutter as it’s happening. Scene after scene reveal themselves to me and I determine if it’s significant of something or important somehow to me at that moment. Here is a guy I see often downtown. He seems to have the bum franchise on that corner. Today he is drawing a dream he had or perhaps just circles on cardboard scraps. Obviously, he too is perfecting his craft.

Not only was the usual public market going on downtown, but there was also a “Green Festival” where vendors offered their products for saving energy, health and wellness. It’s such an amazing promotional phenomena around here. They don’t seem to announce a new event, they just put them where the crowds are already going to be. And in Sarasota, Florida, the crowds are always downtown in the a.m. on a Saturday.

These two girls were pouring energy powder into bottles of water purchased at the Whole Foods Market. Trustingly I let them prepare a concoction for me and I drank it. I wondered if the drink would make my eyes look like hers. Next to her was an equally pretty girl with equally interesting features. Only her’s were the dimples in her cheeks.

I continued walking through the streets waiting for the next thing to snap. Leaving the little energy festival and heading back to the streets with the Public Market, I always visit the stand with the Orchids on them. Sometimes I see a flower with just impossible color growing through it.

Well, I had had my fill of nature, energy, dimples, eyeballs and downtown. It was time to try and remember where I parked my car and head to the next part of the adventure. But first I had to leave the blocked off streets. As I was leaving, there was this woman making herself at home on a table in the middle of the street. Don’t know if she was working for the city that was blocking traffic from the street fairs, or just pausing mid-stride from her walk of shame from the night before. What is it about drunk, smoking women, with tattoos… who gush, show breasts and disrespect the world they are speaking to while simultaneously talking on cell phones or texting? They are so appealing to me.

Eventually, I found my car and tried to head over to the legendary Siesta Key Beach. Apparently so was the rest of the world, as it was impossible to find a parking spot. Somehow I managed to find one and walk about a mile through residential streets to get to yet another festival that was going on.

As I strolled through the back streets of Siesta Key, marveling over how many cottages and beach homes were for rent, I noticed a heavy solid garage door with large glass blocks embedded in them. The design of light coming through the blocks pulled me in as it looked like smoke. The kind of smoke that probably exists hovering around the ceiling, in Don Draper’s office during an episode of Mad Men.

More stupid effing flowers. I can’t seem to get enough of them. This one was growing out of some neighbors front yard like a weed. Up north, it would cost me $12 to include this one in a flower arrangement sent during an old fashioned Valentines Day impulse. I’m trying so hard to look for the deep emotional capture, the sense of place, the mysterious balance of blacks to white and any unusual juxtaposition to show my photo skill. And I just can’t seem to stop collecting these dumb flowers. Yeah, I know they’re pretty, but enough is enough.

So I finally make it out of the residential neighborhood and locate the hugest craft festival I’ve ever seen. My first glimpse was at the back end of this booth that was selling some kind of gorgeous art. I was drawn to the stack of blankets hidden behind the booth, that was obviously used to wrap and transport the art displayed in the tent. Such beautiful garments the inanimate objects wore while they were traveling.

More stupid flowers. They drew me into another persons booth who was selling dried flower arrangements. How does nature design this stuff? Does nature have a design department and do they have Monday morning meetings where they say, “..we got word from above that we are overstocked with flowers with petals. We need more inventory in different shapes. I want you people to work on something more geometric and have sketches on my desk by Friday! Oh… and by the way, lets try and use a different color than red, people. Come on, show some creativity.”

Then, I got lucky finding this woman with her dog. I wasn’t sure how I got so lucky to find the classic pet resembling her owner. Notice the baby carry halter, the similar white hair, similar visor, similar sun glasses, similar expression. I wonder if I need to get my dog Page a pair of mirrored sunglasses so she will look like me?

I walked and walked till I couldn’t walk anymore. There were some interesting booths, but mostly the same ole same ole. I did see this bird on a wire above me as I began the trek back to my car. It sang so loud as I passed it, and just kept looking down at me. All the rest of the sounds on the street faded away and all I could hear was this bird singing. Then I snapped out of it because I had to go pee.

Nothing is as bad, as when you have to go and there is no where to go. Should I pull myself up to a tropical bush, maybe hide behind a Mercedes or a Lexus? Do I knock on a stranger’s door? Nope, I gotta get in my car, hold it and troll out the neighborhood, in line with all the traffic till I can find an adequate washroom. I start thinking about where I’ll go. I want something pretty, something with interesting stuff to look at as I feel my pupils back-fill with urine. Yes, the gourmet market, Morty’s has a nice men’s room.

After relieving myself, I cruise through the store and see if I can shove anything else in my big fat lipped pie hole. Whatever I can eat to make my growing belly and sagging boobies bigger will be my first thought; but no, by yet another miracle, I buy nothing, I eat nothing and as I leave, find a young couple and their baby wiener dog just outside the door.

Dog shots are just like flower shots. I see’em, I shoot’em. I certainly have enough of them, but each new instance is another chance to practice.

I had been wanting to check out this new dog park which was located under one of the many bridges we have in the area. When I saw this scene, I thought that maybe it was a chance to capture something a bit more artistic and less documentary. Something about vanishing points, black blacks and white whites all converging from massive wide forms to a fluid, non-strait dot in the distance.

And then I got lucky again and grabbed the two best shots of the day. One, a crane lifting off and two that same crane landing. I’m not sure, but I think these are pretty great. I guess they fit in with the Write Place Right Time genre.

She almost seemed like a painting and you can almost feel her pushing off. Such angelic white fluffy feathers. Such an incredibly huge bird, it almost defies logic that they can actually fly.

And then this shot almost made my heart stop. The final moment of full wing span, just as she touches down, showing the momentum of her flight. You can almost feel her toes make contact with the wet solid ground. If I was shooting angels, I’m pretty sure this is what they would look like as they land to greet me.

7 thoughts on “GREETING ANGELS

  1. Have I told you (lately that I love you….. A Rod Stewart song moment. It happens). No, that is not what I was going to say. I read your blogs to my husband and he now asks me if my goofy Jewish blogger friend has posted anything new. Love your crane shots. Stunning.

G'head. Say it.

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