Photo Friday: Statement.

Somehow, through an act of luck and kindness, I was the official photographer for last week's Litquake literary festival here in San Francisco. It's been about 8 years since I walked into a room with a camera and a reason. It felt good.

At the end of the Lit Crawl in the Mission on Friday, I went to a bar with the Litquake crew for a celebratory drink. I was shooting the Litquake folks in party mode, as well as the patrons to capture the scene.

I have no idea who this woman was. I took one and only one photo of her, panning across the room. I just happened to catch her primping her hair. After the flash went off, she had one statement for me: "Nice."

This was a sarcastic "nice." A "nice" that could peel paint. A very not-nice "nice."

Now, I don't know what it's like to live life as a beautiful woman. It's probably annoying when people pay extra attention to you. But it's assuming a lot that I would be taking pictures of "hot chicks in bars," just because there was one flash in her direction. After all, I'd just shot a old bearded dude (who I'm told is a local literati) and the design guy who did the illustrations for Litquake. I'm an equal opportunity eyeball.

So should I avoid taking pictures of attractive women for fear that they'll misunderstand? Or just shoot first and ask questions later?

It bothers me to know that our interaction might have made her uncomfortable. Still, I can't help wondering if she'd like the photo. Maybe being a good photographer means not worrying about being "nice."

I said to her, over the din of the bar, holding up my plastic volunteer badge, "I'm a photographer. It's what I do."

That's my statement.

View the Lit Crawl Set. »

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