Seoul Strobist Club
“Strobist: The Metro Project” – SSC Shoot 7

Date: Sunday, December 20th, 3:00pm

Shoot Description:
We haven’t gone out and done any strobist work in a while, so I thought we should get one more in before everyone splits for the holidays. With a lot of action this fall concerning the Metro Project, I thought it would be nice to get together and help each other get creative in and around the tube.

Shoot Objectives:
-    Learn how to effectively balance difficult lighting situations indoors and outdoors
-    Learn how to use strobes and small aperture photography together
-    Gelling for dramatic effect

These are the three areas that I’m going to focus the workshop on, but obviously we’ll get through a whole lot more action on the day of. If there’s anything anyone wants to try or practice, by all means, let me know and we’ll get to that, too.

Meet-up Point:
Sindorim Station
Exit 1, 3:00 pm – (?) 7:00 pm
* Subject to chance. I want to do this at a large, outdoor station with some character. If anyone has a better idea for a station, let me know please.

Shoot Leader(s):
Shawn Parker        parker.shawn@gmail.com         010-5824-2632

Shoot rental fees, etc.:
None.

Models:
I think we’re past shooting each other over and over – I know I’m sick of seeing my own face in the group photos – so I’m going to ask a couple of models that I’ve worked with in the past to come along. It’ll be cold and a chunk out of their day, so I’m asking anyone who is interested to fork over 10,000 won to cover the cost of the models’ time. Payable day of.

Food & Beverage:
Not too worried about this pre-shoot. We’ll figure out a place to have a bite once we’re done.

Emergency Backup Plan:
We should be fine indoors or outdoors – the only thing that will really hinder these plans is rain. But pray for snow…that’d be awesome! Just pack a garbage bag to cover your gear.

Gear Inventory:
When you post your interest, please list what strobe-related gear you’ve got and are willing to bring to the event. We will do our best to pare down the inventory this week so you don’t have to lug all the stuff you own out of the house.

For example, we’re usually not going to need more than 4 strobes for a single shot. That means four flashes, preferably two light stands, a monopod, a trigger and one or more receivers (depending whether the flashes can be triggered wirelessly or not). SB-26s, SB-800s and (I THINK) SB-600s and SB-28xs have this function built in. I don’t know about non-Nikon gear.

I’ll pack most of my stuff so we can run a couple of crews at the same time.

Etobicoke, ON

Subway sandwich shop.

A young, scruffy guy behind the buffet of Subway toppings.  Me, thinking I don’t even want the Sub anymore.  He looks grubby.  Who knows where his hands have been.

Too late, he’s waiting for the order: “I’ll have roast beef”.

But, then, he fires up a conversation.

Him: “Aha, the new iphone.”

Me: “Yup”

Him: Yeah, I wanted one of those.  I wanted it so bad.  But money is tight.  I have to live at my parents place since I lost my last job.  Now I have the Samsung Razor.  It’s alright, but I can’t get access to the web.  It kind of sucks, but, whatever I can put all my music on it.  That works for me.  I can plug it in and my girlfriend and I can both hear it on surround sound.  I mean, at her apartment we can just chill and listen.  That was until her landlord raised her rent so high that she moved further uptown.  It’s cool, though.  She makes me happy, and that’s all that matters, really.”

Me: Hmmm.

Him: But I’d still like an Iphone.  I know the plans are a lot, but I’ll get there.

The conversation continues right to the end of the toppings buffet table.  By the time he’s wrapping my sub and ringing in the order, I feel I’ve been privy to everything going on in this guy’s head.

“Thanks” I say, and hand over my debit card.

And then it strikes me.  Why not?  Why couldn’t I respond?  Why couldn’t I tell him about my phone, about my recent breakup, about my life?

Wouldn’t it be a better world if I had?  Couldn’t we all use a bit more openness?  Do I think my life is more important than his?  Wouldn’t I rather live in a place where people are comfortable talking, where telling a stranger about your life isn’t perceived as strange.

I grab my sub.  I nod my head, thank him.  I turn, I leave.

I am thankful for the fact that two of my good friends from home came all the way from other, distant East Coast locations to spend Thanksgiving break with me and each other.

I am thankful that both of them snore–it’s a comforting sound right now.

I am thankful for my roommate who puts up with their snoring.

I am thankful that my English teacher pushed back the due date for the first draft of the final paper by two days, which, if I work really hard for two days, means I have no real work to do during break at all.

I am thankful for the people who left behind some stuff to cook with in the kitchen

I am thankful for digital cameras because they allowed me to record the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

I am thankful that I was raised in San Francisco and went to the high school I went to and did the programs I did because I am able to think critically about the fact that minor celebrities are placed on top of commercial parade floats (like Energizer) for a reason.

I am thankful for scholarships.

I am thankful for C.’s gentle*manliness*. Because you don’t have to be rude to be manly.

I am thankful for subway maps and Post-its because they helped me plan out visually what to do with the two visiting letters of C.A.L.

I am thankful that my mom hasn’t bothered me every day this week. No offense, mom.

I am thankful for Rachel because she is awesome and knows a lot about New York and helped me locate the Nice Green Bo restaurant because she remembered what street it was on when I didn’t. And because she was really sweet to my New-York-weirded-out friends.

I am thankful for my ability to put together a creative writing application in a day.

I am thankful for Westside Market and their rotisserie chicken that they didn’t run out of despite the fact that it’s the holidays.

I am grateful for $8.25 all-day MTA passes–now I know there’s an easier way to get back to campus when I’m too lazy to walk from 6 blocks away.

But most of all, I am thankful for life’s ability to make things work out well. If that means there’s some god or another out there taking care of it, then so be it, and if not, then I will just celebrate the greatness of life itself.

9:20pm, Northbound from Dundas

I think the man sitting next to me is a window washer. I want to ask him what’s inside his yellow bucket, but we’re not making eye-contact and his head is lowered. Olive-skinned with a bit of a gruff hair growing on his chin, he wears a green cap, and the bottom length of his blue fleece sweater falls beneath a cotton jacket. There’s a finger-sized hole in his jeans on the right thigh, frayed white around the edges. He’s leaning forward, his rectangular bucket tucked between his feet in the sheltered way that commuters protect their belongings.

My gaze keeps falling to his yellow bucket. Can you call something a bucket if it’s not round, but has a plastic handle? The box is divided down the length, and in one of the compartments a round metal handle sticks out beneath a pile of rags. In the other compartment, yellow gloves are stashed beneath a half-empty water bottle – the blue label kind that we all buy in twenty-fours at the supermarket sale. But where’s his hard hat?

I wonder where he’s been today. Whose windows has he washed? Do all window washers get off at 9pm, when the sun has set two hours ago? The other week I was having lunch in the office with some other staff. Our office is on the 19th floor of a 20 story building. Then a sudden sloshing sound coming from the window, and we looked up to see the shadow of a man swinging a soap brush around. He was literally dangling. No scalpel bench. Swinging sideways so as to impact the window with his wet brush. Whoosh … whoosh .. it reminded me of being inside a car wash, minus the pink streams of soap. Isn’t that dangerous? I asked aloud. Imagine the job of the guy who washes the CN Tower windows, someone remarked at the table.

Perils on the job. Imagine the liability waiver of a window washer. Does the value of their insurance go up by the number of stories high? By the number of windows? Can you really eat your lunch atop a skyscraper? From the other side of the glass, those stop-light jobs that squeegee kids walk up for somehow seem a little safer.

-

This is the first of a series I’m hoping to continue about things I see on the subway. Since becoming a regular TTC rider and having my iPod pretty much unresponsive when it comes to playing non-podcast generated music, I’ve taken to people-watching and eavesdropping. This is what happens to commuters who can’t do Soduko.

Yesterday

I sat with my hand in yours. Your fingers brushed my palm and sped along the bumpy, thin paths, to the cushions beneath my nails. You watched me. I couldn’t look at your eyes because my body froze. It freezes on the subway when you’re not there. When, in the dark, I think about you. You smile.

Then… We’re outside. You lead me through the cars onto the opposite side of the street. There’s no one there. Just a cafe. Our cafe. We sit, and again my hand is in yours.

Today

I walked without you. You stood at the end of the street. You watched me. I watched you. I passed you.

On the subway, I couldn’t breathe.

Tomorrow

I will wait for you.

I will wait for you to feel that my heart seizes every time you’re near.

I will wait for you.

iPhone 3GS – Brooklyn, NY – Nov. 09

“Eat food. Not much. Mostly plants.” -Michael Pollan, In Defense of Food

I very rarely eat out at lunchtime. I usually bring a sandwich or leftovers to warm up in the microwave at work.

This morning, I forgot my leftover pasta at home, and although I ate a banana at the office, I seriously thought I might starve to death before I got home tonight. I decided to splurge and go to Subway for a sandwich. I decided to eat out for lunch! I looked forward to it for a couple of hours.

At 1:00 PM I left the office and drove to Subway. I parked, walked inside, and stood in line.

(Let me back up a moment and mention that I don’t eat much meat anymore. I’m not exactly a vegetarian, but working in the agricultural industry has given me an education about how animals are treated, and slaughtered, and I don’t want to eat them much anymore. If animals were treated with humanity during their lives and slaughtered in a quick, stressless, humane fashion, I wouldn’t mind eating them. I love pepperoni pizza and cheeseburgers.

At my job, and just by paying more attention while living my life, I’ve also come to understand most farmers’ attitudes in relation to the animals that they raise, kill, and sell:  in my opinion, they should feel grateful to the animals, but they just see the animals as a means to an end. Animals are just one more object to deal with along the way of earning a living. Turkey farmers refer to themselves as “turkey growers,” as if turkeys are just plants or inanimate objects to be grown. They wouldn’t want to refer to themselves as raising turkeys, because then consumers would remember that turkeys are actually live creatures. And did you realize that pig farmers are now called pork producers?)

So anyway, even though 99% of Subway’s menu—meat sandwiches—is not an option for me, they do have a delicious Veggie Patty that’s served hot, and I also enjoy the lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, green peppers, and onions that I can add to it. Here’s a photo I found of it:

And whenever I’ve ordered this sandwich at Subway, I’ve done so with a smidgen of smugness. It’s subtle, maybe even unconscious at the time, but I do acknowledge that I momentarily feel morally superior to everyone else because they’re eating animals, but I’m eating plants! (Note:  I’m poking fun at myself.)

So today, I got to the front of the line and here is the conversation that occurred:

Subway employee (grumpily): “What can I get for you?”

“I’d like a 6-inch veggie patty on wheat.”

“Huh?”

“I’d like a 6-inch veggie patty on wheat, please.”

“Veggie . . .  PATTY?”

“Yes.”

(Clerk looks at me sideways.)

“We have a veggie.”

“You don’t have the veggie patty?”

The clerk looks at me like I have just escaped from the local asylum and repeats:

“We have a veggie.” (As if this explains everything.)

Intuitively, I realized that she didn’t know I’d been to several other Subways that do offer a veggie patty, and that she apparently thought I was ordering it just to piss her off. So I said by way of explanation, politely:

“Oh. Well, some other Subway stores have a veggie patty,” and I was going to proceed with my order, but she interrupted me and said, clearly very annoyed:

“Well, some other Subway stores have pizza, too, but we don’t have that, either.”

I considered saying one of the following:

• “But I didn’t ask you for pizza,” or
• “I was just helping you out, so that if someone else orders a veggie patty from you sometime in the future, you’ll be ready to give your apologies and explain that you don’t have the veggie patty, but you do offer a delicious veggie sandwich,” or
• “Back off, you grouch! I am treating myself to a rare lunch out and you are spoiling it with your rudeness.”

But instead I just said:

“OK. I’ll have the veggie sandwich.” 

It was OK. It was actually pretty good. I’m not going to starve before dinner tonight, and no animals died so that I could eat lunch. I’ll moralize some more at you once I start walking the 20 miles to work and stop polluting the environment with my fossil-fuel burning car.

In retrospect, I’m glad I didn’t explain myself to the Subway employee. She probably makes minimum wage and stands on her feet all day. Maybe she is a student or a single mother or has a sick family member. Maybe her car broke down this morning and it’s going to cost a lot of money to repair. Who knows, Subway employees probably don’t even get a free sandwich after their shift. I have an ample supply of empathy with a person who can’t even communicate about a sandwich without getting upset at the person who is ordering it.

But I probably won’t be going to this Subway again for a long, long time. And someone should care about that, but no one does, so I’ll leave you to draw your own conclusions.

typical of NYC commuting, these 2 people were always at the same place on the platform…for months. they never spoke and i doubt ever acknowledged each other. i see the pillar between them as a metaphor for the void in our society between people. it’s like they only exist to themselves.

To Pelham Bay, originally uploaded by CVerwaal.

The OM-2n with a small and lightweight sharp Zuiko 40mm f2.0 pancake lens is a perfect street photographers tool. Here is a shot I took unobtrusively by pre-focusing and taking it without looking through the viewfinder. It takes a little practice to judge the right angle and I had to straighten it a little in Photoshop, but otherwise this is how it came out of the camera.
IRT Subway, New York City.
Taken with an Olympus OM-2n and a Zuiko 40mm f2.0 lens on Ilford XP2-400 film.

I didn’t like Subway’s response, so the issue has been passed along to the allergy people. I forwarded the entire conversation along with this explanatory note…

From: ERiC AiXeLsyD world.and.lunar.domination@gmail.com
Date: Wed, Nov 25, 2009 at 10:55 AM
Subject: Allergy Concerns & Subway Restaurants
To: Info@aafa.org, info@worldallergy.org, info@aaaai.org, t.wirth@sfaft.org, webmaster@foodallergy.org, help@allergysupport.org, help@foodallergyadvocate.com, niaidnews@niaid.nih.gov, jlieu@aanma.org, mszegedy@aanma.org, info@faiusa.org, lmitchell@kidswithfoodallergies.org, nicole@allergicchild.com

 

Aloha Allergy Afflicted Amigos,

Please see my experience with Subway’s lack of concern for allergens and cross-contamination highlighted below, surrounded by their ensuing lack of customer service/respect. Their final unapologetic apology can be viewed on my blog.

I find their lack of concern quite disturbing. What can be done to make companies like this more aware of these issues that can be deadly for a certain percent of the population?

While shellfish is surely simple to sidestep, what about my peeps that are petrified by peanuts, terrans that are terrified by tree-nuts, friends that are fearful of fish, my mates that are mired by milk, my sidekicks that are scared of soy, or my well-wishers that are weary of wheat?

Thank you in advance for your time, and I hope you have a safe & happy Thanksgiving holiday!

Always Anti-Anaphylaxis,
-ERiC AiXeLsyD

Thanksgiving is coming up in US but Aussies don’t do it; so no holidays for those on the other side of the ocean until Christmas. Many bloggers are talking about the turkey and dishes they will be preparing for the day, for their families and friends.

Some of these blogs are quite educational. This particular blogger says:

… these turkeys have been bred for one thing and one thing only… meat. These are dumb animals. These birds see a large predator (aka me or Edwina, the wayfaring farm dog) and think to themselves, “Hey let’s all go check that out! Guys come over here! Look a predator! Let’s all go say hi!” Needless to say they would not last long in the wild. Unfortunately they also don’t last that long on the farm. One turkey randomly had a heart attack one day and became dinner. It seems they are looking for ways to die. Apparently it is not really true that turkeys can drown from looking up at the rain, but they’re so dumb it seem plausible.

The actual preparations for Thanksgiving appear not to be too different from any other festivities, eg Onam. The woman spends her time cutting, chopping, baking, cleaning… and looks the most wilted of the gathering. Then think of the pile of unwashed dishes, messy kitchen, overflowing garbage, lack of dishes to refrigerate the leftovers… who is giving thanks now? Only the invitees!

I’d like to eat some turkey now but I am too broke to head to Subway and get a Turkey sub. I still remember the live turkey that someone gave us when I was a kid, back in Nigeria. It lived in the small spare room noone used. And pecked at the grains we fed it. The person who loaned it to us didn’t want it back. So my father killed it, my brother and I joined in cleaning it and mom baked it; the aromas were mouthwatering. Unfortunately, it tasted like the breast meat of a chicken – I am not too fond of that chewy piece of meat. And there weren’t succulent bony pieces. Sigh!

Maybe I haven’t tasted authentic baked/ roasted turkey. Anyone care to invite me?

Eigentlich wollte ich jetzt was dazu schreiben, dass McDonald’s sein Logo ändert. Zum einen, weil mich die Kollegen – von berufswegen her – drauf ansprechen, zum anderen aber, weil diese Nachricht so große Wellen schlägt, dass mich sogar Bekannte auf der Straße drauf ansprechen.

Dann aber les ich heut diesen Artikel in der Süddeutschen, der schon mal einiges vorwegnimmt. Kann ich großteils zustimmen. Ob es wirklich grün sein muss, obwohl blau (Luft) die neue Öko-Farbe ist… OK, kann man drüber streiten. Dass aber ein Logowechsel allgemein riskant ist, kann ich nur unterstreichen.

Mit Logowechsel verbinde ich 2 Dinge: A) Fehlschläge in der Industrie, wunderbar zu sehen am neuen, absolut hässlichen Logo von Opel, B) Puren Aktionismus. Markus Söder hat in seiner Funktion als neuer JU Vorsitzender seinerzeit erstmal das JU Logo gewechselt. Und in seiner Funktion als CSU Generalsekretär hat er erstmal… das CSU Logo gewechselt. Richtige Inhalte folgten weder hüben wie drüben, und Söder ist seitdem nur als Lautsprecher ohne Substanz bekannt. Und ich hoffe, dass McDonald’s weder das eine noch das andere blüht…

Noch dazu wäre ein besserer Weg, McDonald’s ein umweltfreundlicheres Gesicht zu verpassen, einfach mal Aufklärung gewesen. So lese ich in einem Kommentar auf n-tv.de etwas über die Verlogenheit in diesem neuen Logo, weil wir ja ach so viel Müll produzieren. Da sag ich als Insider natürlich: Moment. Schaut Euch erst mal die Recycling-Rate bei McDonald’s an! Alle Verpackungen sind aus Papier-Verbund, die Plastikstoffe sind allesamt recyclebar, und es herrscht strenge Mülltrennung. Alle LKW unseres Logistikpartners Havi fahren mit Biodiesel. Das wären mal Ansatzpunkte, um sein Umweltgesicht zu zeigen. Und nicht einfach nur, ein erfolgreiches Markenzeichen (!!) zu tauschen…

Aber wie so oft gilt auch hier: Die Leute, die das entscheiden, machen den ganzen Tag nichts anderes, als sich mit sowas zu befassen. Die werden’s schon besser wissen als die Süddeutsche Zeitung oder ich…

Und das schlimmste Argument kam an sich von meinem Bekannten Andi: “Jetz schaut’s dann a bissl aus wie Subway…”

Someone on the HikiCulture FaceBook group shared a link to this New York Times article about a thirteen-year-old boy from Brooklyn, New York who spent a total of 11 days in a subway station. The boy happened to have Asperger's Syndrome (like myself), which can lead some people to become highly reclusive and anti-social.

I thought I'd share this article since it's not very often that Asperger's is mentioned in major newspapers such as the New York Times.

PS. Thanks for the link Theo.

Posted via email from HikiCulture – A Forum For Reclusive People (and Hikikomori) {HikiCulture.Com Site Blog}

Whenever I am trying to explain why it is totally feasible and in fact quite wonderful to raise a child in New York City, I invariably reference an article that I read in the New York Times in June 2008, shortly before I gave birth to MJ.  The author, Helene Stapinski, writes about visiting various New York City public playgrounds with her young children: “Since I’ve spent most of my adult life here, I know many neighborhoods intimately and use the playgrounds as an excuse to give my children an extended tour of the town they call home.”  The article goes on to describe their favorite parks, including descriptions of the neighborhoods they visited and the modes of transportation they took to get there.  

I’ve always said that the unlimited Metrocard is the “key to the city,” and I admire Helene’s desire to introduce her children to the different corners of the city we call home.  This is why it’s great to raise children in New York – the world is just outside your front door and the opportunities for adventure and exploration are limitless.

In the spirit of Helene Stapinski, this week MJ and I began our own quest: to find our favorite New York Public Library Children’s Room.  The New York Public Library system includes Manhattan, the Bronx, and Staten Island; however initially we will limit our search to Manhattan.  As we get further into our hunt for the best children’s room, we may check out some of the branch libraries in the Queens and Brooklyn Public Library systems as well.   

Stay tuned for reviews of our favorite libraries, and please feel free to post recommendations!

The Anti-Advertising Agency along with the Graffiti Research Lab have started a new movement targeting subway ads in New York City. City-dwellers are being exposed to an exponentially increasing number of advertisements per day, we’re talking THOUSANDS of ads punching you in the face. So this is just their idea of a little “fuck you” to the people behind this. Check it out:

Bangkok Subway Free on the King's Birthday

In honour of the birthday of HM the King the Bangkok Subway (MRT) will be free on December 5th, 2009.

I like free, but unfortunately I’ll be out-of-town.

I have a 30-day pass. I don’t think they extend the validity of the pass by a day to compensate. That’s a swizz as we used to say when I was a kid.

I took this picture outside Hua Lamphong Subway Station. I apologise for the pincushion distortion of the Nikon Coolpix P6000’s lens when it is set to wide-angle.

I was literally just thinking how great the subways have become. 15 years ago I would not be able to travel at 8 pm from Brooklyn to grand central as I am this evening, I thought to myself.

Then I look next to me and an old man has his penis out.

A subway tunnel between Pudong and the Bund in Shanghai.

(National Geographic)