Mitch Steps Up His Game

Mostly just nice clean shots, but see below for a sequence justifying the title.

I love these "Beach Alone" shots of determined damn the weather full speed ahead cloud bathers.

Nice curl.

The red hat makes it. And the truck.

Now there is a story. I wonder what it is.

A great one for the photographer-photographed exhibition.

I almost missed this sequence because this was a lazy batch from Mitch that kept me busy with the delete key as I slogged through 1067 pictures to find less than two dozen noteworthies. But though this and the next few were uninspiring I saw what was going on: Mitch was working this one shot because he sensed something was there. This shot was the first, and taken from the same distance as another shot a few batches back that really rocked.

OK, Mitch zooms way in to see what that does. Closer is almost always better, but now
there is nothing there. Let's see where Mitch goes next.

Ahh, here we go. Close enough to focus us, but wth enough different and
overlapping visual elements to give the eye something to enjoy. Nice. Can we do better?

Not bad and now the frosting of the glass looks like clouds with the sun shining through a break, but at this zoom level the picture is tonally too flat. I say the prior shot is the winner. What really got me though was finding this composition exercise in the middle of over a thousand shots mostly shot with machine gun care. Very interesting.

And now Mitch makes another lady friend/phtographer.

So far the photographed phtographer does not know of her objectivity. 

Busted!

...and Mitch has a new friend.

Now there is a beach party I would love to join. Just gotta find some neon swimwear.

The Best of Mitch, v1.0

One thing wrong with this way of presenting a gallery of shots is that they are piled on top of each other, making it hard to enjoy one while pestered by the sight of another.

If you click on one picture it will zoom to full view, then right/left arrows let you scroll thru them individually. The bad news is that somehow blogspot will skip some pix, and in recent experience by chance they were the best. Software. But I just checked and all forty-three come through OK. 

I guess then the only remaining bad news is that you cannot read my brilliant captions while viewing that way, so come back later if you are curious about a pic or why I picked it for this first collection of Mitch's best.

The theme here is homelessness as well as photography. This is Prophet. Those between homes make good use of that which others lose or throw away. Reminds me of what I heard in NYC from one scavenger to his mate: "You won't believe what people throw away." And indeed when I need to know the time (or have my skate to the picnic area and back clocked) I can count on Mitch and the snazzy sports watch he found one early morning strolling the beach. 

A wall denizen, and a great guy always overflowing with good will and positive energy. I should study him. And learn his name, but he is an infrequent regular.

I call these bi-chromals. Monochrome plus one color. In the kaleidoscope of South Florida Mitch somehow manages to find these pure essays in chromatic simplicity.

I get this crazy time-lapse photography feeling from this shot, as if it were one person.

Mitch has a few photographic missions he keeps working, one of them being the perfect shot of birds on this one street light outside the Elbo Room.

We flew here, we paid for the hotel, we are using up our vacation time, and we are going to sit on the damn beach. 

This is Mitch's lady friend and dueling photographer.

OK, I took this one. That's O.G. in the Yankees cap, Mitch enjoying a happy thought. Or none.

We had a cold snap a couple weeks back. I remember Mitch seeing this shot and reacting not to the shot but to the reality. She is a good friend and Wall regular and the story went somewhere for Mitch other than photography.

I just realized why I like this so much. Mitch caught the boat just as it was escaping the inlet,
doubling the sense of release and relief. Yes, work is a PITA just now.

No Photoshop, just digital software going haywire over challenging lighting.

Prelude to a mugging.

We have to get a sharper version of this, it rocks.

Remind me to straighten this one in iPhoto. Note that if her left foot was not in mid-step this shot does not make it. But now I can feel her walking into the onshore breeze and smell with her the salt air. The easiest way to capture motion is with video, the most evocative is with the still photo.

Here is Prophet again.

I hesitated on this one because of exposure then remembered Mitch's remarks: the lady didn't have a care in the world and just let it all hang out. I guess I have a lot to learn from her.

Necklaces, Too

This is Andrea. The first day she waited on me she asked me to stop talking to the television because I was scaring her. I explained that I was just trying to help the umpires with the calls they had made the day before. Not sure that helped but eventually we worked things out.

Anyway, I like to be generous with my friends on the wall and a couple of weeks ago Mitch in return said, "Here, Kenny, give this necklace to your girlfriend," which we both knew to mean one of the scintillating beer wenches whom I hopelessly worship and desperately overtip because they delight my eyes and wit both.

What to do? I could not give it to any of many beloveds at Spazio because I had already given a necklace to one of them and she is Brazilian and...no no no. My very existence angers her, I don't need to get caught two-timing her on necklaces.

Then it came to me. Andrea! I do not party like I used to and even when I catch her shift I am only good for a round so she was out of mind but then I remembered...Andrea! Andrea was perfect, a truly gorgeous girl and friend who did not work with the Braziilian.

Back into Dirty Blondes I go and I catch Andrea's eye and she asks what she can get me and I say a Cap'n and Coke and that I have something for her. When she swings back with my drink I slide the necklace across the bar.

"One of the guys on the wall...", I start.

"Did Mitch make this?", she interrupts.

Damn. I don't think she even knows my name.

"Andrea wants to get you something," I am saying to Mitch a few minutes later.

"I'll have a sandwich," Mitch says.

"I don't know. The turkey club?", guesses I when Andrea reads me the options.

"This is from Andrea," I am saying ten minutes later.

Damn. Andrea was supposed to be my girlfriend in this story and now I am the delivery guy from Papa John's pizza. And Mitch does not even give me a tip.