People I: The melange

I keep photos. My 250GB SSD I have on my laptop is already full. Now I’m going around with this portable HDD and I’m getting anxious about my Light room getting huge. And I have the camera only for a couple months now.

That’s all because of you Steemit!

Godammit! This platform is giving me the impression that my shots are actually worth something so now, my entrepreneurial mind is collecting them. At the rhythm that I am collecting, I guess I’ll soon face the problem of money spent on storage devices.

That’s how I came up with a new series I want to make. About the people I get to photograph, the faces I manage to get on the camera (either by will or by force).

^{Somewhere in Sighișoara, in the oldest building still standing, now a boutique hotel, a traditional dressed old lady, lightens the morning}
“Here take the wheel!” I scream at my girlfriend who’s chilling on the passenger’s seat. Leaning on the right window, taking pictures at the people staying in front of their yard like there’s no problem in the world. Oh, how I’d like I’d be able to chill like that.

I have to confess that nothing tells me a better story than a bunch of old people. Old people’s faces have experience written all over it. I try to surprise that with a camera lined up for the shot. Always hated studio photos, trying to make you look like something you are not. Reality has its own beauty through its own flaws. There’s always a larger pattern unfolding.

^{Waiting for the cows to come back home in the evening. Il dolce far niente}I like to think that I’m getting a different angle on that already classic approach of “People of [insert place here]”. Still making in my head the speech for approaching people in order to get them relaxed for a shot. As I don’t know If I’ll ever grow the balls and get there, I suppose I will continue like this (which as devilish as it may sound, I like more thaan any staged shot).

^{Setting the time. Ring Road of Târgu Mureș}

^{The need of a project manager always fall on the shoulders of women}

^{Bringing the milk. Over a bridge in Oradea}

^{Getting to 2nd base. Some park in Ploiești}

^{There’s no beer like plastic bottle beer. Oradea} 

^{When she gives you “da look”. Flea market}

^{Same street corner, same hour like in the first picture. After all, I did get them faces}