Around the corner from the needle exchange we settled down for an extended period one afternoon in March. It was a half grey, half sunny day that was oddly chilly for Los Angeles. I had seen Christine on my way to meet someone else, and as often happens to me, I changed course and forgot completely about my previous intentions and focused all of my attention on this most ephemeral being named Christine. I am learning more and more that I must exercise great care and learn to read carefully the most minor outward indications that may serve as warning that I must tread very, very carefully.
Christine at 6th And Los Angeles Street, Los Angeles
So pale, I had trouble exposing for her skin tone on this bright, harshly lit day. A strangely hazy afternoon, one that was not atmospherically suited to taking great pictures.
Baudelaire Is Everywhere
Christine At 4th And Crocker
Baudelaire is everywhere. And why should anybody be surprised to find an earnest purveyor of his works in this place? I was not.
One Saturday afternoon on Los Angeles street I saw a long, thin woman hunkered down at the corner of 6th and Los Angeles Street. She had a small suitcase and a lot of makeup and was intensely focused on her public grooming ritual on this busy Saturday corner, surrounded by families from the nearby barrios doing their weekend shopping. I don’t generally like to sneak these kinds of candid pictures….I can get what I want by making a conversation happen, and will always seek to do so when I feel that special pull, enticed by a hard to define sense of personal eccentricity in combination with innocence and tragedy that never fails to attract my attention.