Frankshots by yusselah

yusselah

if a traveller needed a frankfurter..

copyright joseph gordon 2014 yusselah

frankshots

Yusselah

if a traveller needed a frankfurter on a warm july afternoon...

or maybe just some cold papaya juice or a little more money for his keep, would I put a few dollars in his cup?

Yes, I would.

And what about taking his picture? Should I have done so without his knowing -- without his consent?

Yes, I did.

That is to ask, would it also be okay for me to take pictures of him without his consent?

Yes, maybe, I thought; and then as I circled 72 St., I thought not. Perhaps taking pictures of people without their permission, which is now commonplace, is really not a very good routine at all. Back in the SRL days, before the fast n’ easy digital camera, I rarely photographed a person’s countenance without asking first. And as a paid picture taker and reporter for the health care workforce, the cops and hospital bosses sometimes tried to take or break my Nikon. There were now and then violent confrontations by a few who were hell bent on forcefully shutting organized labor’s shutter down. That taught me to be wary of certain powerful people who thought little of abusing a camera users’ rights. I have photographed hundreds of people picketing on sidewalks and protesting through sit downs. I had their blessing, which is a step up from simple permission or assent. But by what right do I take photos of someone sitting down on the sidewalk with an alms cup up? And how about the passersby and frankeaters at the counters? Was it any of my business to take pictures of them without their knowledge or assent? Here’s a little head’s up. I’m still undecided. And if such indecision in any way bothers you, you may wish to look away now.

Yusselah

yusselah shmuel gordon

It was his dignity that compelled me to finally take wayne theibaud hotdog painting

pictures of him; his calm, dignified demeanor was admirable. The carefully applied coverings that festooned his stroller set his baby wheeler apart from the dozens of strollers and carriages that people pushed quickly by. Everyone seemed to pass him. All that tocuhed his space were their shadows.