Golden light. Southern light.
I made this image in a neighborhood of the Ninth Ward called Holy Cross. . I saw this woman riding off into the sunset so I followed her in my car. When I got close enough to her, I got out and made a quick ten frames or so.
She heard the sound of the camera, so she circled back to me keeping her distance, not knowing what I was about. I held my hand up in a show of friendship. She decided to trust me. I turned the LCD around and showed her the pictures. She was relieved. I handed her my card and asked her to email me and I would return a full sized image file. She did. I did. All is good.
That’s pretty much how you do it. My instinct, built on my years as a photojournalist is to photograph first and apologize later. But, I seem to be able to sell myself in situations like this one. I’ve long realized that to work as a photographer you have to carry yourself like one. It’s confidence, but it’s something else. You have to look like you know what you are doing.
I’ve read a number of stories about a couple of photographers who have gotten in a lot of trouble taking pictures at state fairs and similar situations. One sounds like he was a creep. The other was just out taking pictures. Both tried to hide and blend in to the crowd when they were approached by concerned parents.
I never do that. I walk purposely to the person asking questions. I introduce myself and shake hands if they’ll let me. I turn my camera around so they can see the LCD and what I was doing. I offer them my business card and tell them if they want a print I’ll email them a file if they ask.
I never have a problem.
Take heed. The world is a weird place. People are scared. People don’t trust each other. Try to repair that when you are out making pictures. Leave folks better off then when they met you. That is the least that you can do.