Fun Photography

Fun photography. Fun photography.

To all the ships at sea,

What have we forgotten?  When did we forget it?  Why did we forget it?  When did photography become so important?  When did photography become fingernails on a chalkboard?  When did it become so critical that we start to tear people apart for no particular reason?  I think it’s time to go backwards, and when we go backwards, we’ll actually go forwards, and we’ll go forwards quite a bit.  I’ve been making photographs for quite a while… and exactly why did I get started in photography?  Ask yourself that question, why did you get started?  I was on a New York set for Lights Out, sitting with some great, great, great photographers;  Kenny Regan from Camera 5, Johnny Iacono from Sports Illustrated, and Al Bello from HBO.  We started to talk about photography and we all kind of giggled and laughed.  We wanted to change the world?  No.. We wanted to show the importance of an image?  No… We wanted to tear down the establishment and build up independent thought?  No…  We wanted to meet girls?  Yep, that’s the reason.  My God we were in our teens, of coarse we wanted to meet girls.  The reality is, we wanted to have fun.  Sometimes we forget why we do things.  I’ve been with the same girl for a long time, so I don’t need to meet girls anymore, but what I really need to do is have fun.  That’s really what it’s all about; and to be quite honest, I think I’ve forgotten it.  I’ve made a promise to myself, I’ve had some of the greatest teachers in the world.  They’ve given me so much to be grateful for.  I need to take all of those tools for the balance I have left on this planet and incorporate it into having fun.  The reality is I’m not going to change the world.  A journalist asked Bob Dylan if he feel like he changed the world with the songs, and did he realize how important his lyrics were.  Dylan looked at the writer and said, “Hey man, I just play music, I play music and I’m not trying to change anything, I’m trying to have fun.”  So if Bob Dylan didn’t change the world, I probably won’t change the world either, so let’s concentrate on having fun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

wave© Joe DiMaggio

©JoeDiMaggio

Ice Spikes ©Joe DiMaggio 6942 copy

©JoeDiMaggio

 

Waterfall Snow Ice 9498 RB

©JoeDiMaggio

 

Lovable Lew, a Magnificent Jew

Hi to all the Ships at Sea,

One of my friends is a great internationally known photographer by the name of Lew Long, or Lovable Lew.  He started his career in NYC and ended up with a Rolls Royce in England. He worked for every major advertising company in the US and Europe. I remember one of his great ads of a TWA pilot inspecting an engine on a rainy day. It was brilliant. He’s now based in Miami and still generating great photographs. He’s begun to delve into videography. He has a great friend, who was a major player at McCann-Erickson, by the name of Greg Birbil. He was born in Coney Island, doesn’t get better than that, especially if you love Nathans. I’m going to reblog some of his blogs because they are just great and I would like to share them with my friends…that’s you…if you didn’t know. Follow his full blog here: An Ad Man in Greece

While in college I worked for the post office at Christmas time delivering mail. This was pre Internet and it was snail mail, especially at Christmas time, tons of it. Two to three weeks of helping the regular mailman. It was my first government job; my second was the Army a few years later. Before I go any further, I have to explain something; as a kid growing up in Coney Island, dogs were not part of my life as they are now. Through my wife and kids, all dog lovers, I have become pretty much a dog person. In an immigrant neighborhood where I was raised, nobody had pets, certainly no dogs, maybe a cat for mice if you had a store. Dogs were scary; think of the expression “junk yard dogs.”
I delivered mail in Brooklyn, but a Brooklyn different from Coney Island. I delivered mail in a neighborhood that had single and double family houses. These houses had front yards with fences around them and they had dogs; big noisy, snarling, vicious, rabid dogs, between me and the mail box, which was usually on the porch. Perhaps the regular mailman knew each dog personally…but not me, to me they were “junk yard dogs.” All dogs were supposed to be dangerous. There was only one way to deliver the mail, after all, the mail must get through, even though it was only Christmas cards and life magazines and ads. I opened the gates and the dogs ran out, free and happy I guess. I could deliver my load of mail. I have created a whole neighborhood of released happy dogs involved with each other, probably mating and making more dogs for next years Christmas help.
I am not proud of this crappy thing I did, I would like to personally apologize to my daughter Chris (she is a great dog lover, check her blog, thelifeofcaptainchip.blogspot.gr.) I remember arriving at a house, no yard, and no dog. I start to put some mail in the brass slot at the bottom of the door and I am ambushed by a dog on the inside, he grabs my fingers and I try to pull my hand out and the mail slot closes on my fingers cutting them. Freezing weather, bleeding fingers and the dog is on the inside proudly barking away. How do I get me revenge on this beast, it actually might have been a tiny poodle, but to me he was a snarling Ridgeback; I get a life magazine out of my bag, I have no idea if they even subscribed. I put the magazine in the slot until the dog gets a hold of it. I then pull him into the door and then ram the magazine in…hoping to skewer him; I must have missed because he continued barking and probably making fun of me, giving me the “paw.”
Aside from the cold and the dogs, delivering Christmas mail was OK, meeting for coffee and killing time so we could go out on a second run and drag it into heavy overtime. I now know all dogs are not “junk yard dogs’” at least the ones I have in my yard aren’t.
All the Best,
Joe D