Have no delightful evidence just yet but will in sooth have some primo, eye-pleasers soon as twice this week I was hired to photograph (God only knows who is reading so Yours Truly will not say bootylicious) Mikhail Baryshnakov - at a last dress for the premier of three new pieces and then for last night's VIP hoopla where Himself appeared in troubling brown shoes with a dark suit, yearning for a glass of wine. I approximated that it took him about one hour to traverse the room from wine station to snack centre as in the gulley between were about fifty people who wanted to touch him, to do the usual and adulatory things.
During the last dress I was sitting after some set-ups for the NYT and Middling City News at the edge of the stage when Himself came towards me. Enjoying? he queried.
Suddenly I demi-gushed, replete with fluttering hands thusly.
Oh it's GREAT, so much action.
Action.
The special visual treat for You is forthcoming, I think a nice solo shot of him where the light is hitting his eyes in an arresting way.
In one of the pieces Baryshnakov dances before a digvid projection of him as a teen, all jumpy lithe energy. It was not my favourite part but was a great use of digvid for sure and I did think of aeons ago when I was Cultural & Performing Arts Chair at UUAB (that would be univ union activities brd) and programmed an evening with Kathy Rose, who danced in front of her own animations to a funky funky beat.
Across the room where I am blogging and soaking up the wi-fi molecules is a Native man bare-chested save for a brown leather vest. He's wearing a brown suede cowboy hat with a gold chain around its crown. He looks like he's wearing eye makeup. This is something one just does not see each and every day. My thoughts, naturally, lead to Johnny Depp.

Depp in Love.