Yesterday's many tiny journeys included a stop at Middling City's 2nd annual Karibana Festival with a parade, allegedly, down one Delaware Avenue. Went with Lead Boy Colleague at appointed midday and at about 130 a micro-parade went creaking by featuring a non-drilling drill team, a convertible from which an elderly lady waved and a bunch of cops leading the way and then a fire truck signalled that all was micro-over. We were told that Karibana Parade pt. II was to take place at 2 so we booked over to another event, returned at 2 and then at about 4 (mind you all sorts of impromptu meetings and media gatherings are taking place during this time as well as a hearty ingestion of caffeine) IT happened with loads of skyhigh streamers, half-nekkid people and razzly-dazzliness.
Towards the end of the night stood backstage with most of the Boy Colleagues at HSBC Arena awaiting the Goo Goo Dolls late appearance and was surprised that we were all sent packing to the sound board to shoot from that mega-distance. Last time I shot them was from the stage and anywhere during their surprise engagement at Albright-Knox Art Gallery. Now this. This rivalled Rod Stewart Aging Rockstar Syndrome as we were all practically outside the fucking venue. But long lenses, slight riser, holding of breath and patience prevailed and some images happened.
Still haunted by the image, mid-wedding shoot, of a preteened guest of the B&G dancing solo on the dance floor. She, clearly Britneyed beyond belief, was doing one of those choreographed pop dance routines she had seen on cable and didn't realize that solo and on the dance floor of a wedding banquet hall she looked like a demented stripper. I watched as an older, non-hip and obviously cable-less couple watched in rising horror and embarassment. In her preteened mind, I imagine, she was in belly-baring spandex and surrounded by a plethora of buff young things. She was not.
It was a beautiful moment.
You are all my beautiful moments.
My love.
My camera-centric love.