Perfect Stranger

Being a mom, it is rare I get a day all to myself. On this day, I choose to attend the local museum for a quilting event where I knew that I might get some photographs of some local quilters.

The Birmingham Museum of Art is a favorite go to place where I can get lost in some of the most beautiful photographs. Ironically, I hated the trips to the Birmingham Museum of Art in Elementary School but find myself migrating there for free time, as an adult. My favorite exhibits are those that are photography related. I especially enjoyed Who Shot Rock and Roll and What’s Lost Is Found.  These two exhibits are on opposite ends of the spectrum but both very enlightening. Of course, the onehundredstrangers project was not far from my mind. Maybe my first stranger would be a quilter at the Museum of Art?

What a terrible day to be out!! It’s raining and cold. I travel downtown with camera equipment in tow. Great!!! I don’t have an umbrella and I don’t want to carry all my equipment, so I take a chance and dart for the door. I find the quilters on the second floor. A large crowd for a Sunday afternoon. I take a few shots and the color just doesn’t seem right and my angle is off. They are not what I had visioned for my quilters photographs. Then I remembered that there is a photography exhibit called Shot in Alabama, that was posted on Facebook, I would like to see while I’m downtown. It was a few blocks away at the public library.

Seems like all it does is rain, rain, and rain in Alabama this year. I hadn’t picked up the camera much since October. It felt great to have it back in my hands after a long time. I drive past historic Linn Park and pass a group of homeless people waiting by the mission truck. The local church was handing out blankets, supplies and food. I thought to myself how wonderful it is to be able to give and help those in need. I continued onto the library.

As I parked, it continued to rain. I tucked my camera up under my sweatshirt and went into the library. The exhibit was small, but the photographs dated back to 1839. The best one was a photograph of the very first Alabama/Auburn football game. Auburn won!!

I continued to walk around the library to see if I could get any photographs of the wooden bookshelves and old book spines. The modern libraries are not the libraries back from my childhood. The smell of old books, old wood and musky. I felt myself long for the familiarity of that childhood smell.

I went up to the bridge that connects the library to the courthouse. It was on the 3rd floor. The elevator was slow, so I took the steps. The bridge is glass and you could see 21st Street below and the familiar landmarks as the City Federal Building and the Tutwiler Hotel. A friend had taken a fantastic photograph with her iPhone of the rain-soaked window with the city and road below. It would be hard to top that shot. I look down and notice a shopping cart parked along the street and wondered if the homeless retreated to the library as a shelter from the rain. All of someone’s belongings parked on the street. Where does one go to get away from the harsh weather? It was a humbling feeling.

I decided it was time to go. I assumed I would take the steps back downstairs. My music playing loudly over my ear buds, and I am walking at a brisk pace like I just had to escape but still in beat with the music. I started past the elevator toward the steps.

I stopped at the elevator briefly. I looked around at the people waiting. A gentleman walked up, and I quickly noticed his cap. It is an Auburn cap. Is he the one? Is he the perfect stranger?

I step into the elevator first and he followed. I removed my ear buds to study his rugged features. I looked at his face, his clothes, his shoes. What is his story? I wanted to know more!

We stepped off the elevator together. And we seemed to be keeping the same pace. How could I ask him for his picture? Do I mention my blog or project? What if he thinks I am a crazy stalker? What if he says no? I had to think quick because the pace was fast. I must say something now.

“Excuse me, sir,” I say. “Do you mind if I take your picture?”

He says, “Mine? I guess not.”

We get to the front of the library and I tell him the location is fine. I let him know that I am just learning and asked if would bear with me, as I adjusted my settings.  He just waited patiently. I took a few pictures and said a quiet prayer for a good photograph that is sharp and not blurry.  I knew that with editing, it would be fixable, but I wanted this picture to be perfect and I didn’t want to waste his time.

I explained about my blog and my project. I told him that he was my first subject. I asked him his name.

“My name is Jack.” And we talked a little about his hat. I told him if he had been a fan of that “other” Alabama team, I probably wouldn’t have stopped him. We both laughed and agreed. We made small talk, as we walked toward the door. As we approached the door, I told him thank you for letting me take his picture and it was a pleasure meeting him. I said, “my name is Tina.”

He turned to me and said, “my sisters name was Tina, but she died.” I stopped and told him I am sorry. He continued by saying she died very young, so it had been long time ago. And he followed by saying he always liked my name. I advised him that the name Tina was too much to live up to because of Gilligan’s Island and Tina Louise. She was so high maintenance and I always felt I was more like a Mary Ann. We both laughed.

He walked to the right and I walked to the left. I got into my car and he disappeared into the rain. As I started my car, there were so many thoughts that raced through my mind. I should have stopped and just talked to Jack a little longer. There is so much I wanted to know about him. I sensed the feeling he wanted to chat more, and I just didn’t take enough time to learn more about my perfect stranger.

While editing his picture, so many questions are left unknown. I am not sure about Jack’s journey or story. I just know as I’m posting his portrait, I want to know more. So, as I proceed with this project, it’s not all about the photograph, but it is also about their story, and the journey. #justbenice #onehundredstrangers #learnmore

Wait for it………

Photography is all about the wait.  Waiting on the perfect sunset, sunrise, waterfall, flower, landscape, celebratory event, season, lighting, smile.

“This is what I like about photographs.  They’re proof once, even if just for a heartbeat, everything was perfect”. – Jodi Picoult

I am an amateur photographer that has been learning and practicing just over a couple of years.  I, too, am all about the waiting for that perfect opportunity.  I practice as much as possible.  I participate in challenges whether they are weekly or daily Instagram challenges or post the occasional decent shot on Facebook.   I started thinking about long-term challenges but the thought of a 365-day Photography Challenge or even, a 52-week Photography Challenge seemed time consuming or demanding.  I wanted to develop a style, a brand, a look.

Nine months ago, I was looking at Flickr and a gentleman posted a portrait of a local boat and bait shop owner.  In his description, he listed several things that he learned from his conversation with the man in the portrait.  He titled the image, 100 Strangers.  Wow, 100 strangers?  That should not be that hard.  I have approximately 156 days left in 2017.  I should be able to reach the goal of photographing 100 strangers.  So, I waited until I had the perfect stranger.

Now we are approximately two months into 2018 and I have photographed 4 strangers.  Not an easy task.  These 4 strangers have made such a huge impact on my life, whether they know it or not.  I can remember their names, what they were wearing, their reaction to being asked to photograph them, what we talked about, and what I wished we had talked about.

When I talk about my onehundredstrangers, they become a part of me.  A part of my journey, my story.   I hope you follow along as I post my strangers.  I will take you along with me, as I listen and find out more about their journey, their story.   It is time to #justbenice.

– tina