Hard Day at the Office
Once in a while I enjoy participating in photography classes and seminars. Whether it’s a class on how to write an artist’s statement or a photo walk through Chicago, they are an artistic palette cleanser that gets you out of your usual routine and encourages you to see and approach the camera in new ways. Hence my recent attendance at a public portrait session.
The way it worked was, we had a portrait studio set up on the street where anyone could walk up and have their picture taken. We got their name, phone number, and email address and sent them a copy of the portrait (either to their phone or email). The whole thing was only there for two hours, but everyone had a lot of fun and we met so many great people.
Out of everyone I photographed, there was one guy who stood out far and away everyone else. His face and hands were covered in cuts and bruises and his clothes were ripped and stained. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he seemed like a nice enough guy. Very polite, waited patiently for his turn, and thanked everyone for their time when we were done. It’s just… Well, you’ll see.
Before he left, my curiosity got the better of me and I asked what line of work he was in.
If I could ever breathe in the
Air maybe then I wouldn’t suffocate