Spent all day on a production shoot. I was shooting mostly video, and was pretty sure I didn’t have anything for my daily. It was another day where I didn’t think I would have anything worth while for a daily, and where I was so wiped out that I wouldn’t be able to squeeze get one in. In an act of desperation I went through my photos from today and found this gem. It was my first time working with Cristina in this capacity, and I think it worked out pretty well.
13 hour days are pretty crazy, but I have a pretty sweet job.
We make sit and get the ok before she can eat her food. She’s very good at it. Salivating and posing for me while I took this picture. I didn’t make her wait too long though, just enough time to take a few shots. That would just be cruel.
Most people’s first thoughts when they cut themselves shaving are “fuck.” Their second thoughts normally aren’t “let’s let this bleed out and take a picture by the front window.”
Had a surprise photo shoot today. My friend here helped me set up the cabling for the power. Thankfully he helped me make sure my lighting was right, and I got another portrait in the bank.
So for the past year I’ve been under the impression that I’ve had tendonitis in my forearm. I’ve done PT and held back on my climbing because of it. Turns out that I have an anatomical anomaly where my ulna(the outside bone on your forearm) is longer than its supposed to be, and basically has caused a vicious cycle of inflammation. Hopefully this is good news and the shot of cortisone in my wrist will be all I need to get back to climbing. If not there’s a whole rabbit hole of possibilities, but I want to focus on what’s in front of me and not down the road.
I remember having a massive train set when I was a little kid. It probably wasn’t that big, but I remembered it being enormous. That seems to be the way with childhood memories. I have vague memories of playing with it was a child, I think it was on a piece of plywood with that fake green foam grass that rubs of on your hands in little crumbles. One day I got a flat head screwdriver(somehow) and popped the tracks off the table, snapping them and rendering them useless. My parents were understandably annoyed. I can’t remember if they yelled at me, or if they asked me why I did it. I’m sure I didn’t have any idea why I did it. I still don’t. Maybe I wanted to take it apart and put it back together? I went through a phase when I was older, where I would take apart radios, or remote controlled cars and put them back together. Sometimes they would still work. My parents told me that I broke it, they couldn’t fix it, and I couldn’t have another one. I couldn’t understand why. That fateful twist of a flat head was the end of my model train conductor days. Just think. I could have been a completely different kind of nerd.
