Wall on Waikiki

My Leica and myself have been spending time at the beach. A little creative photoshop and I am developing a nice view of what I encounter on a sunny afternoon.

I keep thinking film is better than digital but in all aspects, digital wins hands down for its versatility and ability to capture detail film isn't able to get. However, film still retains that je ne sais quoi digital can't capture. Sure I played with the film scan in photoshop but there is something to it that makes film a bit magical.

Maybe its the fact that its not perfect...the exposures are not always spot on or what not. The Leica is also hard to use. Can't focus quickly, load film easily but something about the camera, film and feel just make a sunny day a splash.

London in a Kimono

I'm going through some old files and scanning negs and old photos and found an old photo of Yukako. I think she was about 3 or so and she thinks the photo was taken in London. What heads she must have turned walking down the street.

Obama Visit summed up...

http://starbulletin.com/2008/08/16/news/obama/

Photo Ed George Lee at the Star Bulletin called to thank and tell me about how my work is part of their multimedia slide show released today.

Its a great show showcasing work from Denis Oda, Burley, Jamm, and Alex the AP staffer and myself. Its a good look back at Obama's vacation here.

Please have a look.

Paparazzo!

Sunrises in Hawaii are phenomenal. A blue blanket of darkness warms to an amber glow slowly filling the sky with a brilliant sea of light. Dark ocean waves become bright blue brilliance. Yes, too poetic but nonetheless, its true. Just ask anyone whose been lucky enough to sit on the beach at sunrise. Its great.

However, sitting on the beach stalking someone for a shot is unnerving! Sea spray sticks to your skin and cameras and the windward side breeze blows sand onto everything. Sand starts sticking to your legs, arms, and hands, getting in your ears, pockets, and mouth. Everything you touch gets sandy.

And its just murder on the cameras. Brutal!!!!!!

But this is what I had to endure to get a shot of Barack Obama. Three days of (legally) stalking presidential hopeful is not fun. Obama arrived in Hawaii for a week long vacation to get away from it all before the campaign starts to heat up and the nominations are set.

I got assigned by the Associated Press to sit and wait on the beach where Obama's vacation rental house is. I had to sit, wait, and hope for an appearance. Its not a fun job. At first I was keen on being on the beach hoping to catch him swimming or just hanging out on the beach. I knew I couldn't get too close to him as Secret Service and HPD were all over the place and I surely wasn't going to hide in the bushes to catch a photo of him. The more upfront and honest I was about myself meant no one would stop or bug me as long as I played by the rules. I mean, this isn't Paris or Brittany...I think they be more dangerous to photograph as celeb bodyguards are mostly hired meatheads. They don't know or care for rules or laws hence I'd be in a loosing battle with 'em. A presidential candidate with Secret Service is a different animal. One wrong move and I could end up in prison if not worse.


Snapped off my by Blackberry Curve!

Here I am laying on the beach with my 400mm camera lens hidden under a raincoat. Secret Service had already made me and twice came up to me and asked me who I worked for and what I did. I kept my gear out of sight for several reasons, one for a bit of secrecy but mainly to keep all the elements off the electronics.

I don't want to claim I am or do paparazzi work because I never have nor do I wish to. I don't care to sit on the beach or stalk around town for some silly celeb of the moment. It just doesn't appeal to me. Sure the money might be nice but I have to live with myself afterwards.

Obama had already been photographed on the beach once several years back and he wasn't pleased. I mean it wasn't a bad photograph. He looked in good shape and gave the appearance of youth. Not some straggly old man struggling in the rough sea. He almost looked Kennedyesque.

So...Obama didn't want to be caught on the beach. He wants to ensure his image is strong and powerful, not one who vacations and slacks off on the beach. As I sat on the beach waiting for him, I knew I was going to have a struggle and sure enough, a long wait.

But I had to make sure I followed all rules and not do anything to piss off the Secret Service. Polite, respectful, and out of their way is the standard rule. No aiming lenses over bushes, through windows or anything you see on TV. You don't stand in front of his motorcade surrounding Obama's car and snap away. That kinda stuff with get you a flight to Guantanamo Bay.

For two days, I arrived at the beach no later than sunrise, set up camp on the beach and waited. Almost immediately, I was spotted by Secret Service and/or HPD. As I'd set up camp, security would slowly saunter up and check me out. Its a bit scary to know Secret Service know has my name, they have my number! SO you don't mess around with this level of security. You play by the rules.

First day...sat on the beach. Talked to lots of beach walkers and gawkers who think I am some friendly guy and want to talk about photography and tip them off to Obama. If you are one of the gawkers reading this blog, please, don't talk to photographers when they are working! Its hard enough let alone want to be asked about our camera lenses and compare your point-and-shoot to what I have. We don't care!

The sun started to rise and get hot. Someone mentioned being on the beach is like sitting in the desert. Water everywhere and not a drop to dip in. Its hot, windy, yet cool. Its nice sitting on the beach but its no fun when you are trying to get a job done. And the most worrisome part of it all is you are never sure if you are gonna get the shot.

So after the first day, I got one Obama sighting. He quickly peaked over the bushes to meet someone coming on the property and was visible for about four seconds. Its not enough time to aim, compose and snap. Besides, Sonny from KITV was chatting my ear off so I lost concentration on the task at hand. I finally got info Obama had left the house and it wasn't a minute too soon. Being on the beach at 6AM until 1PM isn't fun. I was tired, sweaty, a bit sunburned and generally worn out. I was dreading my failure and predicament of having to return the next day.

Second day equaled more of the same. I was a bit more prepared by wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt. The sand became more bearable and I wasn't covered with grit within three minutes of my arrival. I got to the beach much earlier as I had been tipped Obama had taken a swim on the beach at 5:30 before the sun rose. I got to my spot earlier but found even if he had been on the beach, a shot would have been nearly impossible as it was way too dark.

Nothing happened again. Just security around the house and the same gawkers asking silly questions. Again, Obama peered out of the house for a few seconds but nothing. It was another fruitless day.

The third day proved to be magical. I knew I couldn't just arrive and sit on the beach for an entire day so I ended up arriving after six, made camp and read a book. It wasn't much more than a pretty day on the sand. Again long pants and long sleeve shirts, floppy hat, sunglasses, water, sunblock, and a snack of dried mangoes to make the day go smooth. I was getting used to the waiting and in all honesty, sitting on the beach isn't all that bad. I mean, hell, its Hawaii!

I started to doubt he'd come out and I also realized he and his staff knew I was out there on the beach waiting. I doubt he'd come out anyway so I decided to just leave and come back a bit later in the day.

Sure enough, when I came back, Obama and his daughters were just walking out the house for a nice walk on the beach. I, being a consummate, readied my camera in an unhurried manner, set exposures, and fired away. I kept a respectable distance and also introduced myself to Secret Service who also kept their distance. I shot with my 400mm 2.8 lens and really took control of the situation. Nothing could have been better as everything just lined up perfectly. The slow walk with his daughters in the surf, hand holding and just general coziness with his kids. It was almost planned but I know it wasn't.



After following him with lots of respect and care, he finally seemed to notice me but I wasn't sure if he got irritated. He met people, shook hands, and signed autographs. He was cordial and polite to everyone as he is running for president of the United States.



At one point he raised his sandals towards me and muttered something but couldn't hear if it was at me or at people behind me. I was the only pro on the beach (EXCLUSIVES!) so I knew he was aware I snapped photos. I started to feel funny and realized this is why I don't do paparazzi work. I knew I had enough and left him in peace.

Besides, I did rattle off a fair share of images.



But after a long three day stake out, all suffering is put to rest when you get a special moment like this. Obama and his kids made great art and I am glad I suffered like I did. I am sure his people will like the images as it portrays him as a caring fatherly figure. I kind gentle man who spends times with his young kids. I think the images are defining and surely do not harm his image.

I got on the tele!

Seemingly at being at many big events in Honolulu, I find myself on tv. Yes, it's a bit gratuitous to show myself on the tele but sometimes I just can't help myself.

Obama visited Honolulu today and AP sent me out to cover the event as a secondary photographer to the staffer who travels with Obama as part of the permanent press corp. I had to arrive at the welcoming reception center at 10am and wait for Obama's arrival which ended up being close to three pm. What a wait. My forearms are sunburned!

You can see what AP along with Reuters put on on Obama's visit at news.yahoo.com. Search for Obama or Hawaii under the news search. You can also search at Google for images of Obama's welcoming event.

I did get a great (relatively speaking) lunch by walking down the beach and found a Samoan type of festival. There were several tents which were selling Samoan barbque and it was pretty tasty but couldn't all they served. For ten dollars, I got a entire leg of BBQ chicken {yum!) along with salted brisket, bananas, turkey tail, chicken long rice, and a pork quisantes type of dish. Way too much food. The salted brisket was odd and tasted like spam but with a beefy taste. The turkey tail was really tasty...a odd mix of dark meat and cartilage. The bananas were not edible. Odd, dry, yet smoky. Not a taste I liked.

Interesting day.

Dancing Tejanos!

San Antonio Express News
West Side Section
circa 1995?

As a budding photographer I had to take many jobs I would never consider taking now but sometimes cutting teeth is more important than making a decent living. The San Antonio Express News community section hired me as one of their freelancers to shoot stuff around town their staff wouldn't touch as it was community work. You know all real photojournalist only shoot pro sports, fires, and press conferences. Never do they dip into the community section. Hence that was my opportunity to get published in a big daily. Little did I know images like this mean so much more than the said real journalism. Pride and prejudice get in the way of making good judgements and make us not realize how important photography is...not just to the hardcore element who have to sit in mud up to their necks in Africa but to the viewer who's life is so much better than they get a chance to see themselves in the pages of the city paper.

I imagine this shot is still saved somewhere in someone's scrapbook...yellowed and all. I am glad to have made that memory a good one.

San Antonio

The Alamo at sunset...

Thanks to Tracey W and Essence Magazine, I was able to escape to Texas for a long weekend for work (shot a feature for the mag) and see my parents who are still alive and kicking in San Antonio.

I've not been in SA since 2005 or so and every time I go back something has changed yet nothing is really that different. More corn tortillas are served over flour, there are spidery arms of highway stretching all over the city (HONOLULU TAKE NOTE!) and the city is a bit more browner than before.

I stuffed myself with Mexican food, BBQ and sadly not enough Shiner. The Mexican food, something that just doesn't exist in its proper form in Honolulu, is just fantastic. We went to the usual haunts like Blanco Cafe and Pico de Gallo, but the winner of the trip was the dirty little cafe at the Michoacana Grocery store at North West Center on Fredericksburg Rd. Unbelievable lengua tacos. UNBELIEVABLE!!!! I mean its like the stuff we ate near the Zocalo in DF. The lime, onion, and cliantro do the trick. What a surprise to snack on that...something you probably are going to find more and more around the US.

The BBQ is always fantastic. You just can't go wrong. And everything else about San Antonio makes it a wonderful place but a hard place to go back to after living abroad for so long. I mean, Texas is a great place and all Texans seem to know this and we all tend to be proud of who we are. Hugh the Giant once asked me...How do you know someone is from Texas? They tell you...sorry Hugh, no one cares if you are from North or South Carolilna, or is it Tennessee? Maybe Georgia? I can't remember...nor do I care...cause you ain't from Texas...but like I said, and as he said, Texas is pretty proud.

I just don't think I could go back. The weather was way too hot, photo work might be limiting, and life in general might be as tough as the scrub brush. Its not like life in pricey Honolulu is easy...but being a photographer might keep me away from the place I once proudly call home but who knows. And then having a Japanese wife...well, ,if she can't have her ramen...well...there is hell to pay.

Life is what you make of it...nah thats too much of a cliche...

I wrote a few weeks ago about a "...the only thing I can share with you while I am so far away is the moon... as it will always be the same... no matter where you are...the moon is always the same..." I think what all that means is that we are always the same no matter where we go or live our lives. I am still defined by where I was born, what I grew up eating, who raised me, what culture surrounded me...all to some extent mind you.

**********

One of the projects my Mom set out for me while I visiting was to throw away lots of old stuff that was cluttering my parents closet and garage. My Dad and brother have laid siege to the empty spaces of my parent's home with stuff that should just be thrown away. What good are old memories when they are gone? The present is sometimes much more pleasant that the distant past. Why hold on to a match book from a long gone date? Or a photo of someone I can't even remember? Even old awards and swimming medals are hardly something anyone would have a strong interest in seeing other than a sad me. Oh longing for youth and simpledom...

I trashed old love notes, letters, books, reports, and junk that needed to be tossed. I would like to be nostalgic but its just not practical. I can't drag 20 years plus of old stuff with me where ever I go...I threw away old school projects, creative writing, some old photos of people who don't exist anymore for me, and thoughts from a long time ago. I did save old photos of times I hardly remembered. I shipped those back and hopefully I will spend some time scanning some faded dirty negs and remind myself of what I've become.

Like I said, its not so much of where and how I am, its more of who I am and where I came from...no?



I shot my Dad in front of the mural at Pico de Gallo downtown. My Dad is probably singlehandedly the worst photo subject hands down. If he doesn't have his eyes closed, he just doesn't let us capture him. As a younger man, he peacocked his way through life with dandy clothes, slick hair, and a debonair flare that lacked substance but full of style. I am somewhat amazed that he actually came out pretty decent in this photo.

Overall, San Antonio proved to be a great trip. Lots to ponder, lots to miss, and lots to remember.

Thanks Tracey Woods!