so. a couple of early mornings ago i went out onto the bay with my ladyfriend and the rowing team. she yelled at them through a megaphone. i took pictures. or tried to, at least.
it is hard to take pictures of an activity when you dont know what they're doing, if what they're doing is in good form, bad form, or anywhere in between. it is hard to make people look good when you dont know ... what looks good. (that is, if making desirable photographs is your primary goal. honestly, in this case, i'm kind of a whore -- i want to take pictures that people want copies of. it's a pretty straightforward whoredom.)
"get up in their faces, they'd love that," she said. "they never get that. and if you can get them at the catch, that'd be even better."
what the fuck is the "catch"? this mythical "catch"? i'm drowning in jargon -- sculling sweep feather sixes catch three-quarter half-catch launch ...
apparently the bend in the oar is a desirable thing.
among other things.
i dont belong out here but it is 8am and the water is beautiful and everybody's cheeks are flushed with cold.
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