I flew out to LA on Friday and had a free afternoon before giving a seminar the next day. I had packed light. I was only in town for a short stay and most of it devoted to my presentation. So I left my cameras at home.
I was staying in Santa Monica so when I got into LA that Friday afternoon I headed to the Santa Monica Pier. It was the quintessential California day – weather wise bringing back a lot of memories from when I used to live in Santa Barbara. For anyone who has ever been to the pier you’ll understand when I say it was like a circus of vibrant visuals. Within a matter of minutes I was regretting the fact that I didn’t have a camera. And then a funny thing happened – I started recording the visuals in my head and using words instead.
- Colorful bumper cars against a bright green wall that vibrated in the late afternoon light.
- Two men crossing paths each recording their own observations with their mobile devices silhouetted against the glare of the sun on the water.
- Garry King “on the scene” the street musician doing his own thing pumping out smooth sounds that drifted off in the wind.
- A man who looked like Santa Claus and sounded like Cat Stevens singing the House of the Rising Sun, quickly followed by I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas.
- A fisherman weathered and alone.
- A 400 lb mime painted silver and pulling his pedestal down the pier behind him.
Today as I headed to the airport in my rented hybrid car an old flatbed pick up, era 1920’s pulled up beside me at the light. For an instant I locked eyes with the old Mexican gentlemen who gave me a quick smile and I thought to myself – and me without a camera.
Maybe it’s time for me to get an iPhone. If only the phone part was better.



























I have found that when unexpected and random events happen in my life and I take notice and then question why – I’m ready for my next chapter.











And it reminded me of when she was in her sophomore year of college and headed to Santiago, Chile to study for 6 months. I sensed she was anxious and afraid of the unknown – a perfectly natural response, and she was holding it inside. I asked her if she was afraid and she hesitated a bit, perhaps not wanting to show me her vulnerable side and she finally replied – yes, a little. I told her that just about everything I’ve ever done that’s been most rewarding in my life – were the things that I was most afraid of doing.

Even though this plantation is worlds away from my cultural norm – I get a feeling of comfort mixed with a bit of melancholy for my own past when I’m there.
Will it add or will it distract? What piece of music should I use and what will that add to the story? Will the music overpower the piece – because many times it can. And too many times people try to add music to mediocre images to make them more exciting.
Pinetop Perkins is a legendary boogie woogie piano player in the blues world. He’s 96 years old and still going strong. He is living proof of a man who is “living his passion. I’ve become friends with Pinetop’s manager over the years and yesterday we got together over lunch to catch up on what was going on in our lives. I hadn’t been to the Delta for a few years and she was giving me the latest news on some of the musicians that I had interviewed for my film. Four have since died – Little Milton, Robert Lockwood Jr., Ike Turner and most recently Sam Carr.
in the process. We aren’t placing the value on what is unique in all of us – our vision. At the same time we’re placing too much value on the tool – in this case the camera. As technology accelerates the production of more sophisticated cameras that are cheaper and easier to use – and we’ve placed our value on being the technician – we’re in big trouble. Because ultimately anyone with a vision who has the “ability” to realize that vision, can put together a crew of technicians to facilitate their vision or idea – and do it cheaper these days because of technology. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
– close enough to commute if I were so inclined or had a “job” to commute to. But since I’m a self employed freelancer and always have been – I look at that short distance to the “city” as the bridge that connects my two worlds. The “city” can pretty much provide me with just about every cosmopolitan need that I may have and my other world – the idyllic little “bubble” where I live – a small rural town in Northwestern New Jersey – gives me space and serenity.
Both are important in my life and I don’t think I could give up one for the other.