Zachary’s

There is always someone waiting outside Zachary’s, & for good reason. I didn’t happen to eat there today, though… just passing by while running errands.

Tartine

By some miracle, I managed to waltz into Tartine & snag a loaf of the famous bread with no reservation. Would you believe they now ask you to reserve bread 3 days in advance?! Crazy.

So I was sitting there marveling at my luck & eating a lovely tender slice of quiche, when I saw the man at the next table beaming at the world in general—&, since I happened to make eye contact with him, at me in particular. I smiled back in foodie camaraderie, then thought perhaps I would ask him to take a picture of me with my loaf of bread. I glanced over again to assess the situation, shared another friendly smile, & noted that his tablemate was engrossed in the pictures on her iPhone while he blissfully pinched off mouthfuls of his bread loaf.

“We got the bread!” I sang, by way of opening the conversation. His girlfriend/wife got off her phone & the three of us commenced heavy bread bonding. I asked them to take my picture. Apparently she had just taken his picture with their loaf, so they understood my request perfectly. Since she was sitting closest to me, I handed her my camera & then posed with my bread. While she was snapping away, he asked if he could take my picture too, so for a moment there was a frenzy of photographing while I tried not to crack up too hard.

Then she started showing me pictures of the bread he had been baking, the sourdough starter looking all weird in its crock, the special cast iron set (I think this is it) they found at a camping store after unsuccessful searches through all the gourmet shops. I gushed over the crumb of his bread & we talked about no-knead & my 80s hippie whole wheat loaves.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to attack you with bread pictures!” she said at the end.

“No, no, I’m totally into it!” I reassured her.

Finally, as they were getting ready to leave, she turned to me again & asked, “Would you like an almond croissant?”

Incredulous, I asked, “You mean you have extra??”

They explained that there was a minimum of six for phone orders, but really they had just wanted one or two.

Well twist my arm!

Could be spring for all I can tell

Yeah, seasonal. Definitely. We’ve been having this wonderful false spring for the past week or so, which finally induced (seduced?) me to shed the wool layers & tote the new camera along to the farmers market.

Today’s photographer was a young mom, who had paused to watch the old-timey string band with her kids, one in a stroller & the other, about 3, holding her hand. I love it that little kids love old-time string bands!

I’m noting her as Latina but in this case more than others, that is really a wild guess. She could just as easily have Middle Eastern ancestry. Or both. Or something else.

Anyway, nice to be back in the saddle again with this project. Hopefully the weather will hold for a bit.

RR Xing

Trains are always evocative, but they’re even more compelling when you’ve been listening to Isabel Wilkerson on the radio talking about her book The Warmth of Other Suns, all about the Great Migration. She spoke about how African Americans waiting on train platforms for their trip north would get scooped up in mass arrests, or were arrested right off the trains.

Just after hearing this, I pulled up to the railroad crossing on Hearst below 4th Street, just in time to watch a long, slow train passing. It was so long & so slow that I decided to jump out & ask the nearest of many day laborers to take my picture in front of the train. My photographer wore a peacock blue polo shirt with the collar turned up, & spoke very good English. He didn’t bat an eye, asked which button to push, & prompted me to “check it out” as he handed the camera back.

Ici, & some rules

I thought Ici would be a prime location for approaching patiently queued people, who would think it perfectly natural for one of the ice cream faithful to want a picture of herself at the shop. Much to my surprise there was no line outside, even though it was a gorgeous hot day. Probably because it was just before dinner time.

Peeking in the window, I spied my photographer sitting on the bench with no ice cream in his hands. Later I saw that he had been waiting for his friend who was getting ice cream.

Rose vanilla happens to be one of my favorite Ici flavors, so after getting my picture taken I went & stood indecisively in line for a moment, thinking about a scoop. Then, like everyone else who wasn’t there, I realized I’d be ruining my dinner.

I had sort of been hoping to have today’s picture show my surfer girl miniskirt, so that I would have proof & memory (two major functions of photography, right?) that the summer of 2010 was not totally unrelenting in its gray coldness. But my photographer was not interested in the skirt. Looking at this, it seems his compositional intent was to center my face smack in the middle of the picture.

Which brings me to the rules. An art project is really just a game I invent from scratch, & that includes making up all the rules to suit my purposes. I’ve been meaning to post them for a while. These are just to start with; I’m sure I will develop more. (I probably have more already & just can’t remember them all at once.) In no particular order:

1. No cropping or altering of the picture. What the photographer takes is what I post. I just do auto levels in Photoshop & that’s all. I post as many pictures as they shoot.

2. No directing the photographer unless they ask for it. Even if they ask for it, I try to give a minimum of guidance.

3. Maximum one photo shoot per day. There is no minimum. I do this when I feel like it.

4. I do photo shoots only when I am out in the world alone among strangers. If out with friends or in places where people know me, it doesn’t work. This is because the request has to seem as natural as possible. (In other words, if there are people around who know me, why would I ask a stranger to take the picture?)

5. Try not to ask shopkeepers, clerks, waiters, people who may feel obligated to be cooperative as part of their job. That doesn’t seem as interesting or completely fair either.

6. I’m not allowed to get neurotic or vain about what I wear or my appearance when leaving the house. This is not a fashion blog. The intent is to go about my normal business & be photographed as I am.