10 lessons an old ham sandwich in my car has taught me about street photography by Blake Andrews
10 lessons an old ham sandwich in my car has taught me about street photography | B
1. Timing is vital. I must be patient, but if I wait too long the moment disappears. Wait a few weeks and the moment starts to smell pretty rank.
2. An old ham sandwich in my car should not be cropped. The size of each slice must be faithful to the original loaf.
3. You'd be surprised what some people will do in front of your camera when an old ham sandwich in my car is promised as a reward.
4. If I photograph an old ham sandwich in my car while driving in a city, technically that could be considered a street photograph.
5. A old ham sandwich in my car is a like a busy sidewalk. The ham can't do it alone. Neither can the lettuce. Nor the mustard, mayo, cheese, nor any individual ingredient. But by coming together they can build a synergy greater than the sum of their parts. They can build an old ham sandwich in my car. That's the moment to press the shutter.
6. The meat and potatoes of street photography sometimes doesn't include potatoes.
7. Every old ham sandwich in my car is special. Each one is different. It can't be forced to be something else, or some other sandwich, or in someone else's car. I have to accept each sandwich for what it is, and only that.
8. I only have two hands. If I'm holding an old ham sandwich in one of them it's difficult to operate a camera. For street photography sometimes it's best to leave an old ham sandwich in my car.
9. After an old ham sandwich has been in my car for a few weeks, parts of it begin to overdevelop. If I eat these parts, an old ham sandwich in my car will talk to me about street photography. Take me to Paris, it will whisper. Open me up and let's just go! If the street photographer is not open to possibility, he'll never receive that message.
10. There is nothing more mysterious than an old ham sandwich in my car clearly described.
2. An old ham sandwich in my car should not be cropped. The size of each slice must be faithful to the original loaf.
3. You'd be surprised what some people will do in front of your camera when an old ham sandwich in my car is promised as a reward.
4. If I photograph an old ham sandwich in my car while driving in a city, technically that could be considered a street photograph.
5. A old ham sandwich in my car is a like a busy sidewalk. The ham can't do it alone. Neither can the lettuce. Nor the mustard, mayo, cheese, nor any individual ingredient. But by coming together they can build a synergy greater than the sum of their parts. They can build an old ham sandwich in my car. That's the moment to press the shutter.
6. The meat and potatoes of street photography sometimes doesn't include potatoes.
7. Every old ham sandwich in my car is special. Each one is different. It can't be forced to be something else, or some other sandwich, or in someone else's car. I have to accept each sandwich for what it is, and only that.
8. I only have two hands. If I'm holding an old ham sandwich in one of them it's difficult to operate a camera. For street photography sometimes it's best to leave an old ham sandwich in my car.
9. After an old ham sandwich has been in my car for a few weeks, parts of it begin to overdevelop. If I eat these parts, an old ham sandwich in my car will talk to me about street photography. Take me to Paris, it will whisper. Open me up and let's just go! If the street photographer is not open to possibility, he'll never receive that message.
10. There is nothing more mysterious than an old ham sandwich in my car clearly described.