It was Monday and I was already beat down.
It was a long workday, after a very taxing weekend and I was soooo sleepy, not tired, just sleepy.
My favorite joint was the Apache Cafe & Lounge on Art Monday nights. Harking back to the days of the beatnik era, the Apache Cafe, basically, is one of those joints where creatives of all types hang out in a eclectic, funky atmosphere. Poets, painters, musicians, singers, DJs, dancers, photographers and film makers all have a place here along with patrons, entourage and students. It seemed like each night of the week focused on a different art form. For example, Sundays it was Spoken Word and Wednesdays were Open Mic for singers and musicians. On Art Mondays, Apache would bring in a model or two and puts them on a model stand for painters, photographers, visual artists of all types to be inspired. And I got to tell you I went in there planning to having one drink, maybe two and calling it a night. I just wasn't feeling it, you know.
But I got there, had a shot of Grand Mariner and proceeded to find my Muse. And there she was. I was no longer tired. I was no longer sleepy. I pulled out my camera and grabbed a few shots of the scene.
I'm energized now; the music feels like my theme song and each image makes me want to shoot the next. I'm intoxicated by the Grand Mariner and the model's locs & curves. A couple of friends come over, we start laughing about dumb stuff. We talk a little about real jobs. I am enjoying the night. I take a couple more pics and order another shot.
The muse... the drink... the crew... the model... my captures...
I was in a moment and I was living...thriving... in it.
You feel me?
1 comment:
yeah, i feel whatcha' saying home boy! i gotta get back there so i can talk about that dumb stuff & the sex & cash theory. since you wrote & gave visual. i will write about how it smells up in that joint!
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