Once. When I actually chased the light.
I used to make a lot of pictures like this. I don’t do it anymore. Maybe I should. But, for some reason the enjoyment left me. Maybe it’s just the thing that is the hardest about making reasonably good pictures.
Do you wonder what that thing is? It’s not gear. It’s not skill. It’s not talent. It’s not practice. It’s something else.
A wise man once told me that often the hardest part about making pictures is getting there.
The French Quarter is tourist central. That’s where everybody from someplace else wants to go. That means the streets are jammed. That means it’s hard for a local to park. It’s hard to get from once place to another within the Quarter. And, these days I have to watch me step. Literally — with hip and back problems — and well, literally — because there is so much crime. I reckon an old guy with a camera is a great target. I suppose I could just strap a gun on my thigh because we can down here, but that just doesn’t seem to be the way I want to live my life. Sheesh, I’ll shoot you one way or another.
This is yet another picture from my archives.