The story behind your photo?

viktoria

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Photos not only capture moments but preserve memories, I believe that photos that are closest to us have some kind of a story behind them.

I was just curious to know if you guys had any. This discussion is about posting photos that bring out such stories that not only describe the technical details but focus more on the situation in which it was shot, its expression etc.
 
ok, sounds interesting... I'll play :)

$MAR_7227_v1.0low.jpg

Took this one by putting my P&S on top of fanny pack (I believe that's how you call them) on a rainy day in Paris, during a week we spent in an apartment there with my girlfriend two years ago. That was such a magical week for us, during which we completely fell in love with the city... So we ended up printing it in canvas and hanging it on both our living rooms.
I remember it was starting to rain pretty heavy and the original has a couple of drops on it, but it was totally worth it :thumbup:

Not the best edit or print, but that's not the point here anyway. We're trying to get more of a painting look for the canvas.
 
Photos not only capture moments but preserve memories, I believe that photos that are closest to us have some kind of a story behind them.

I was just curious to know if you guys had any. This discussion is about posting photos that bring out such stories that not only describe the technical details but focus more on the situation in which it was shot, its expression etc.
Where is your photo?
 
I felt I was in a creative slump.

While shopping at Walmart I went through the arts and crafts section and bought some sketching paper with the initial thought to try some sketching.
A couple of days later I got the sketch pad out and instead of sketching I used a piece of foam board, some push pins, several sheets of the sketching paper, and a blue gelled speedlight to produce this image:

PadArtC8-3-10D300A_0009.jpg


I used the blue gel since the plan was the final image would be converted to B&W:

PadArtSquare8-3-10D300A_0009.jpg
 
The local sheriff stopped into my studio one day to ask if we had seen any kids playing in the old phone booth right by the southeast corner of my studio. The kids had been dialing 911 from the phone booth.
I didn't know the phone in the phone booth still worked, but it got me to thinking that there were few phone booths like it still around, and that I should take a photo of the phone booth before it too disappeared. The phone booth was removed 4 months later.

A copy of the image was hung in the local post office for several months. It turns out the phone booth was kind of a historic landmark for many of the towns residents, and they were saddened to see it had been removed.

BoothIID907-28-9_020.jpg
 
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In 2007, I was in a small river town in northern Laos and I saw this man walking around dressed a tiny bit more formally than the rest. I said hello and he responded in English and we talked a bit. (His English was rudimentary but better by miles than my Lao.) As he told me, he was responsible for the boat landing and the tourists he passed through. There are no railroads in Laos so bus and boat are the usual methods of transport and many villages have no road access.

We sat at a local cafe, actually the local cafe, and had coffee and he told me his entire life. Then we walked down to see his office, a bare concrete room in a bare concrete building,and I snapped the picture below, which I've always liked. (shot with a D200 at 24 mm using an 18-200 lens at f7.1 while leaning against the wall)

He invited me and a friend to his house that evening for a baci ceremony (details in link)- and we were the guests of honor. They lived behind a small store that his wife ran during the day. His mother and his wife's parents, all of his children and their spouses and children. It was a great experience, 12000 miles from home in northern Laos with people I couldn't speak to and they were welcoming me and my friend.

We hired his son to take us up river the next day but that's another story.

The snaps of the ceremony were taken by my friend, a professor at Beijing University, with a very small and rudimentary Chinese digital camera.

laos2007.jpg


$jin laos 238.jpg$jin laos 240.jpg$jin laos 243.jpg
 
My story...if i had one is...what you see is what you get! One lady complained I don't give captions with my pix. I don't like giving my pix names or having to explain them. If they wont stand up by themselves they are a failure. OK, you want to give the local, fine. But if you need a whole paragraph to make a pix fly...it has problems.

I don't question people much when I would shoot em. I may ask or not ask to shoot. I shoot and leave. Others may do it different, but that is me.

I have no great stories...well maybe a few small tidbits. I will try to remember some details.

I just walk round with a cam and shoot what interests me. I cross the street and see a squished pigeon...I shoot it. I don't think a lot, I see...I shoot.

img119-Edit.jpg




I see a guy on the street, ask him if I can shoot him in his apt, he says yes...I shoot him. Only light was the window and a bare lightbulb on the ceiling. This guy was interesting. An old merchant marine with shrunken head in the window! Almost 40 years ago...can't remember anything else.

img028-Edit-2.jpg




Was out early AM, still dark out. I saw a guy in the alley, I shoot him.

When I came home to develop, I dropped the hand loaded film can and the lid popped off. Luckily this image was the last shot and it did not get fogged. Outer film layers saved the inner film...lucky for me!

img034-2picked-2-2.jpg



BTW...No auto focus and auto exposure back then...we did it with 1 or 2 shots...and had to guess at the exposure!

You other crusters (and some young guys) remember how it was...and some of you are still in the stone age no doubt with the changing bag, ferrotype plate, Dektol and D-76. The poor togs they got nowadays complain their auto focus does not work right...poor, poor togs!



It is getting late and am going home for dinner...I see some guy who does not have a home...I shoot him. The story here is this. 40 years ago I took a bed for granted. Now i don't. Other story is this image was lost till a month ago. Forgot I had it until scanning some old negs. Had not seen it for 40 years.

img074-2LR.jpg





I meet a guy by chance that likes to dress up like a lady. I ask him if I can take some shots, he says yes...so I shoot him. Can't remember his name. I wish I had taken some notes...that is the story of this pix.


img1102.jpg




After shooting this guy I went up to a beat cop accross the street. I asked if I could shoot him, he said no and gave me a ticket for jaywalking! I try not to talk to cops any more.


img038-Edit.jpg




The story behind this shot...I kept following this girl down the street with her baby sis blasting away. I took about 8 - 10 shots. All crappers except the last one! She never knew a thing! If I did it now they would think I'm a perv!

img099-Edit-Edit.jpg



I was shooting an old stripper. The A/C broke and it was hot as hell inside. We went up on the roof and I shot her.


(Image removed - violates forum policy)




OK..guys and gals...you got a few stories!

Circa 1970's L.A. / Hassy SWC / Nikon F / Kodak and Ilford films
 
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I felt I was in a creative slump.

While shopping at Walmart I went through the arts and crafts section and bought some sketching paper with the initial thought to try some sketching.
A couple of days later I got the sketch pad out and instead of sketching I used a piece of foam board, some push pins, several sheets of the sketching paper, and a blue gelled speedlight to produce this image:

PadArtC8-3-10D300A_0009.jpg


I used the blue gel since the plan was the final image would be converted to B&W:

PadArtSquare8-3-10D300A_0009.jpg


V. Nice++
 
This is a mediocre snapshot that would mean nothing to anyone else, but it's special to me simply because of the story.

I HATE swinging bridges. Really, really hate them. Actually, I hate bridges of any sort that are not absolutely rock-solid steady. Foot bridges, swinging bridges, I hate them all. When I was 3, we went to Grandfather Mountain and everyone except my grandmother went across the swinging bridge. My sister, who was just 4, walked across it herself, and yet today has NO fear of them. My dad carried me across. While I don't personally recall the specifics, evidently when the time came to cross back over, I held a VERY strong opinion against EVER crossing that bridge again. I don't know how they finally got me calmed down enough to carry me back across, but that was the LAST time in my life I ever went across a swinging bridge.

until last year. Last July, on my 50th birthday, my sister and I went to Fall Creek Falls for a day of photography. She hadn't planned on going across the bridge, knowing how I felt about the idea, but I had decided that on my 50th birthday, I was going to conquer the fear, go across the bridge AND take a picture while I was out on it.

I DID IT!! I moved Verrrrry, very slowly and every time someone else made it move too much I became frozen in place, in terror. :lol:
But, BY GEORGE, I went across that durn swinging bridge AND back, of my own volition!! AND took this picture of my sister while I was on it (okay, admittedly, I was only about 10 feet out on it...as we approached the middle, I was too terrified to let go of the rope with even ONE hand!).




I will not do that again for at least ANOTHER 47 years. :lol:
 
...and this year's Homecoming King is ...................
 

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The old adage "A picture is worth a thousand words" should be all that is needed most of the time.


Sid
Nobody's saying otherwise here--this just happens to be a thread devoted to photos that DO have a story behind them. Some of them, like KmH's paper abstracts, certainly don't NEED the words--but it doesn't make the stories behind them any less interesting.
 
It seems whenever there is a 'theme' thread, there is an interesting surge of counter dependent responses where people have to show they are not part of the crowd by some positive act such as debunking the thread or posting in a way that shows off their independence of the crowd.

The sort of interesting thing is that the act of contributing even just a little by itself shows their need to be involved.
Just not responding doesn't trumpet their independence enough.

Not dangerous or annoying, but a bit funny.

(once married to a psychologist while she was in rgrad school. no other credentials)
 

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