For the first time, my anxiety about not having a camera in-hand, from start to finish, did not get the better of me. For the first time, I was able to hand over my camera and, cautiously at first, completely participate in my surroundings. One small step, as they say.
Photographers, if you will, are professional observers. Because you are oft an outsider, your experience is secondary. While Hondros would argue the contrary and this may seem like a bad thing, for the craft, it's quite a valuable skill. Not only do you have control of your specific action, but of the documentation of a multitude of actions with no direct influence on the situation, other than angle and light.
In that respect, journalism goes from basic reportage to art form, in that you, of course, are creating a true-to-life situation purely from your perspective as an observer. Key word being: create. The difference between taking a photo and
making a photo.
The tricky thing, however, is knowing when to give that up... to put down the camera and to just be where you are. While racing this sailboat, it happened. I was nervous about it, but it happened.
I watched boats sail in and out of my frame of sight, painted with the rich tones of a setting sun. Truly a photographer's dream leisure scenario. I would take my eye off the spinnaker for a second to glance at the frames I was missing... at one point, handing Achille the camera to try and direct him to shoot what I was seeing (Thanks, Achille!). Still, it wasn't the same.
By the time the wind had changed enough to release me from my duties, it was nearly dark. This was the first, last and only frame I took during that race.
And I like it.
This photo actually doesn't look real. Yes, Photoshopping happened, but truthfully not that much. I'll tell ya, the Williamsburg Waterfront's view of the sun rising and setting are unbeatable in the urban category. Working a show whilst the sun sets behind the city? One of my favorite seasonal gigs.
