I do hope you enjoyed my Upworthy-worthy title.
As part of our Easter festivities (the other part consisting of binge-watching playoff basketball), Jewels and I began work on a project. After some brainstorming, we decided that asking strangers to do something totally unconventional would be fun to photograph. I didn't originally plan to write a blog about it, but after what transpired, I was left with no other option but to share.
Jewels and I decided to convene on a busy intersection on the periphery of Blue Back Square. It was there that we discussed our plan. Perhaps because we hadn't taken part in a single egg hunt, or because I'd just finished 1984, or maybe because we take pride in being weird, we decided that we wanted others to do something non-conformist for us. And we wanted to take pictures of them.
So we asked strangers to walk out into a crosswalk, stop, extend their arms outward, and tilt their head to the sky. Only one person tilted her head to the sky, but that's not the point. The point is that I've never seen anyone do this. And it's uncomfortable for most people–to stop in the middle of the street and seemingly hail the blue-sky gods in front of automatons driving automobiles. Our goal, thus, was to capture the emotion, the surprise, on the faces of the people in the cars. But what we found was much more expression, one could say non-automaton qualities, in our subjects.
We began our day with a (likely) couple who almost immediately agreed to participate. After a chivalric ceding by the man, the woman walked into the street and posed. Jewels was there to capture it.
As part of our Easter festivities (the other part consisting of binge-watching playoff basketball), Jewels and I began work on a project. After some brainstorming, we decided that asking strangers to do something totally unconventional would be fun to photograph. I didn't originally plan to write a blog about it, but after what transpired, I was left with no other option but to share.
Jewels and I decided to convene on a busy intersection on the periphery of Blue Back Square. It was there that we discussed our plan. Perhaps because we hadn't taken part in a single egg hunt, or because I'd just finished 1984, or maybe because we take pride in being weird, we decided that we wanted others to do something non-conformist for us. And we wanted to take pictures of them.
So we asked strangers to walk out into a crosswalk, stop, extend their arms outward, and tilt their head to the sky. Only one person tilted her head to the sky, but that's not the point. The point is that I've never seen anyone do this. And it's uncomfortable for most people–to stop in the middle of the street and seemingly hail the blue-sky gods in front of automatons driving automobiles. Our goal, thus, was to capture the emotion, the surprise, on the faces of the people in the cars. But what we found was much more expression, one could say non-automaton qualities, in our subjects.
We began our day with a (likely) couple who almost immediately agreed to participate. After a chivalric ceding by the man, the woman walked into the street and posed. Jewels was there to capture it.
After the shots, the woman raced to the opposite side of the street, while Jewels came back to my side. The woman seemed invigorated after conquering the minor fear of doing something weird in front of strangers. It was pleasant to see. The man congratulated her. We thanked them both. All of us, if briefly, were enormously satisfied. Or at least I was.
Next, we were turned down by a man in a nice suit. He said, "Oh no. I'm too old for that kind of thing." He then walked away.
Then I asked a tough looking middle-aged bald man smoking a cigarette if he was interested. He said, "Have a good afternoon," and continued walking.
I said, "I was certain you would do it."
And he responded, "If I hadn't been working since six this morning I would."
The next people we asked were more obliging. They were a group of three, and we convinced two of them to go for it.
Next, we were turned down by a man in a nice suit. He said, "Oh no. I'm too old for that kind of thing." He then walked away.
Then I asked a tough looking middle-aged bald man smoking a cigarette if he was interested. He said, "Have a good afternoon," and continued walking.
I said, "I was certain you would do it."
And he responded, "If I hadn't been working since six this morning I would."
The next people we asked were more obliging. They were a group of three, and we convinced two of them to go for it.
As they were posing, the crosswalk timer ticked below five seconds. The guy said, "The light's gonna turn green; we're gonna get run over!"
And then the woman said, "Do we get insurance for this?"
I laughed as the timer expired and the two sprinted to the other side of the intersection. Jewels came back. We all waved to each other, separated by a sea of automatons driving automobiles.
After a short rest, a young man approached wearing a head scarf and ankle-length robe. He spoke little English, but relying on gestures we were able to communicate our project. He agreed to participate wholeheartedly, not hesitating to stroll into the intersection and pull off the longest, surest pose that we'd seen yet.
And then the woman said, "Do we get insurance for this?"
I laughed as the timer expired and the two sprinted to the other side of the intersection. Jewels came back. We all waved to each other, separated by a sea of automatons driving automobiles.
After a short rest, a young man approached wearing a head scarf and ankle-length robe. He spoke little English, but relying on gestures we were able to communicate our project. He agreed to participate wholeheartedly, not hesitating to stroll into the intersection and pull off the longest, surest pose that we'd seen yet.
Afterward, we chatted as best we could. He said he was from Abu Dhabi, and that he liked America because he was going to school. He made a motion with his hands to explain the type of classes he was taking, and it may have been that he was referencing creating art or writing in some way, but I didn't ask him which because the two are synonymous.
I learned that his name is Adel. I gave Adel my name so that he could find me on Facebook and see the project. As this was happening, the second pair of people we'd photographed appeared again. Jewels exchanged contact information as they were interested in seeing the project as well.
And as all that was happening, guess who appears? None other than the man in the nice suit who had said he was "too old" for the project. This time around he said, "I feel like doing something crazy."
His prior reticence made me respond with, "Huh?"
And he repeated, "I feel like doing something crazy. I'm going to keep walking, but I'll be back. You can photograph me then. I'll be back."
I watched him go, and then I watched Adel and the other couple go. And although the man in the suit never did come back, I think he meant it when he said he felt like doing something crazy; the mere thought of taking part in the project had given him a whiff of daring, of possibility. And I think all the people whom we did photograph, while they didn't do anything necessarily crazy, did experience a pleasant thrill by taking part in our little unconventionality.
So next time you're plowing your way through mindless banalities with all the practiced precision of an automaton, I want you to stop, extend your arms outward, and give a silent shout out to the sky. Do it in front of people. Do it confidently. You might feel better afterward.
All photographs by Julie Ronecker, whose Internet home is Sincerelyjewels.weebly.com
I learned that his name is Adel. I gave Adel my name so that he could find me on Facebook and see the project. As this was happening, the second pair of people we'd photographed appeared again. Jewels exchanged contact information as they were interested in seeing the project as well.
And as all that was happening, guess who appears? None other than the man in the nice suit who had said he was "too old" for the project. This time around he said, "I feel like doing something crazy."
His prior reticence made me respond with, "Huh?"
And he repeated, "I feel like doing something crazy. I'm going to keep walking, but I'll be back. You can photograph me then. I'll be back."
I watched him go, and then I watched Adel and the other couple go. And although the man in the suit never did come back, I think he meant it when he said he felt like doing something crazy; the mere thought of taking part in the project had given him a whiff of daring, of possibility. And I think all the people whom we did photograph, while they didn't do anything necessarily crazy, did experience a pleasant thrill by taking part in our little unconventionality.
So next time you're plowing your way through mindless banalities with all the practiced precision of an automaton, I want you to stop, extend your arms outward, and give a silent shout out to the sky. Do it in front of people. Do it confidently. You might feel better afterward.
All photographs by Julie Ronecker, whose Internet home is Sincerelyjewels.weebly.com