Sunday, April 19, 2015


Regular readers of this blog will remember that I love to take pictures of people taking pictures.  It fascinates me.  If I can get the photographer, what he's photographing, and the image on the screen of his camera, then it's heaven for me.  Even just the photographer raising his hands and aiming and me from behind and to the side so I can get him and maybe what he's trying to capture is also great.  It occurs to me that I might be out of control.

This week was a lovely week here with good weather and many sunny afternoons.  I went to Federal Plaza when I could -- there were demonstrations, one of which made the police cut off major sections of the Loop so they could control the crowd with out the impediment of cars -- and a couple of days there were people capturing each other by Flamingo, the huge outdoor sculpture by American sculptor Alexander Calder (I always thought he was Belgian so I am a big stupid and let's move on).  When the weather is mostly  good -- and it's Chicago, so let's agree it's lousy seven months out of the year -- I cut between the post office and Kluczynski Federal Building to get to the Blue Line entrance.  From this vantage point I can see people taking pictures.

But do I have my iPhone or iPod Touch out, ready to take pictures?  Hardly.  I am walking along thinking, "Buddy, at that angle, your wife's gonna be a little dot next to this giant sculpture," or "Really?  How much of that sculpture do you think is gonna be in the selfie with the five other people?"  Screw me, I then think, they're having fun.  I am almost upon them when it occurs to me I need to take out my device.  They have, of course, dispersed by the time I get close to them.

This week I came around the corner of Kluczynski Federal Building to go get a lottery ticket at my favorite place, and there was a man with a DSLR.  He seemed to know what he was doing and was taking pictures from different angles.  This was probably my sole opportunity to take a picture for the rest of the day.  I took out my iPhone -- no simple thing as my iPhone holder is a Zip-Loc plastic bag (don't judge; it makes me happy) -- and I raised it to take a picture.  Just then he stopped and decided to go another way.  I am not proud of this, I acted like I was fascinated by the Garrett's popcorn story that's kittycorner from this spot while he made more decisive moves.  He took some shots; I took a picture of him.  He whipped around and looked and me and I had already returned to the mode of "is-that-light-red?'  He approached the corner and had to wait for the red light, taking some pictures as he waited and I got another.  I beat feet through the green light because he was probably on to me.

You will be pleased to know that the light was in his favor and both pictures aren't as good as most of my efforts.  I won't say that I will swear off stalking photographers but it might be better for me to stick to what I know -- sidling up to the unsuspecting and stealing their image while they're thinking about something else.
My prey

No comments:

Post a Comment