food photography (quickie) :: potato leek and bacon soup

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Today was supposed to be the self-portrait session but decided that this bowl of delicious potato, leek and bacon soup would be much more appetizing than my melon on your monitor.

Join me for today's quickie.

more headshot progressions :: with jason rinker L.Ac.

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Recently, I had the great opportunity to work with one awesome acupuncturist Jason Rinker L.Ac. True, he may be the first acupuncturist that I've met but that's what's so magnificent about being a photographer; befriending new and interesting people that otherwise, you may have never crossed paths with.

Today, the progressions with Jason. From enemy of the lens to a artisan of the headshot pose.

fuck your ideas!

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You died and your best friend is at the pulpit reading your eulogy. What would he say?

FDR skatepark :: south philly :: round three

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Like the deliciousness residing in the refrigerator calling for me in the late hours of the night, so does the mysteriousness, the furtiveness of the skatepark.

This would be my second year shooting at FDR Skatepark in South Philly. As in the past, I departed, wanting just one more taste.

unfiltered

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As titled, Unfiltered, today you may experience my lack of cohesion. Somewhat Focused but with my usual rants.

More, I want to discuss the use of filters and/or lack thereof. I bring you today's photo of Stefanie.

gear matters :: ASKEW review of the Impact 10' x 24' dawn/deep sea blue reversible muslin

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When entered the world of photography, I quickly found photographers I marveled at and still extol such as Avedon, Leibovitz, Seliger, Jarvis and McNally, just to name a few (my list goes on and on).

Having said that, I also espied a myriad of photographs that gave photographers bad names across the globe.

I'm certain you know the photographs I speak of. Imagine: the 70s or 80s when most photographers wore pocket protectors, carried black combs for all the clients to keep, bad lighting, bad posing and worse, those abhorrent backdrops.

A forest?

Tie dyed from a bad acid trip?

Clouds maybe?

Ugh.

The muslin.


I vowed to never ever stoop to such a creative low. . .


. . . Until now.