Not many pictures from this night made it through the edit filter. oh well. I have a tendency to try to make a narrative with photo series, but some nights just don’t fall into that pattern. Too much going on to get it all, or too much happening in bad light, etc. And sometimes my narrative making brain cells aren’t firing either. Of course, the gist of what happened is what you see in these photos, even if there isn’t a series of them. We drank. We chilled. That’s about it. 
Yep, it’s happening again; Youths on bikes out terrorize the local bar scene. Or at least get drunk and have a good time. 
There would be more of these, but I didn’t much feel like taking pictures. Wasn’t totally together. I was sad and not really functioning so well. But the ride helped, and the funeral (minus the pastors that didn’t really know adam) was good. The ride after, without the police escort, was better. We took over the street, up broadway and down 23rd, a critical mass like this city hasn’t seen in a while. It was kinda epic, which fitted with what I was feeling at the time. Maybe you had to be there. 
All of these look a little yellow to me now, but I’m not going to go back and correct ‘em. Too much like work. I’m having a really great day thus far. Bike ride, hangin’ out, big truck burrito, and now I’m huddled next to my ac tryin to cool off. The hot laptop isn’t much help, but oh well. 
By which I mean I have the white stripes in my head. I’ve been reading this book, called The Photographer, about a photog who went into afghanistan with MSF during the Soviet-Afghan war. Towards the middle of the book, the photographer and one of the doctors are talking about what it takes to improve in their respective professions, and the doctor says to the photog: “…To take good photos, you have to age well.” I like that sentiment very much. 
Copyright © 2008-Forever, Matt Mills.
