#feeling bad that the 4k i saved to put towards a car in 2019 is like. gone 💀 no car to get a good job to afford a car to get a better job💀

[princesscedar]

I've gotta get a job I've gotta get a job I've Gotta Get A Job I'VE GOTTA G

[ryanellisphoto]

#153 — Saturday, March 9th, 2019 — Ryan Ellis Photography - Detroit Street Photography Session #153 — Nikkor 24mm f/2.8 

Walking the M-1 Rail on foot - David Klein Gallery - David Bosco Willis - Jazz Man’s Broken Horn Blues - Broken Saxophone - Roy R Rowlands - Pain in the Neck - Batman Forever (But Hopefully For Shorter Than That)

Arrived @ 8:10 AM

Departed @ 4:40 PM

254 photos (and a whopping 36 videos) taken in 8½ hours with but 26 “keepers” among them, rendering a respectable 10.24% “success” rate at a sluggish 29.88 shots per hour (I desire the most at least to achieve a 10% “success” rate and 100 shots per hour). 

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PREFACE:

Famed rock critic (and mentor to the man that decides what plays on ClearChannel [which sets the programing for much of the tunes heard on the radio today]), Robert Christgau, has a letter grade system for evaluating musical works he reviews. While calling bad bad and good good, he also sometimes calls bad good. In other words, sometimes an awful piece is so bad that it is good. Getting away from music, a film that might fit that description is Tim Burton’s, “Batman Forever.” Among its flaws, the suits worn by the supers have hard, molded necks that extend up from the shoulders, which hilariously forces the characters to turn their whole bodies in order to look behind them instead of simply turning their necks to do the same (quite impractical if you are trying to save Gotham). That level of rigidness is what I had to maintain today as I took pictures and videos in the city I do not love (but am slowly learning to appreciate). My neck was still in pain, and I babied it (albeit while pushing myself to the limit to see what I could yet accomplish). All in all, it was a good and profitable day.

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PATH TAKEN:

Greektown - I took a prescribed high-dose ibuprofen to mask the deep pain from my recent neck injury. According to the bottle, it is supposed to last eight-hours (and I follow its instructions), but I find it only lasts maybe four-hours in my body. My whole life, I have always been highly-tolerant of pain-numbing medicaments. I half-joke (and half-shudder) that I am terrified of growing old. I fear the inconsolable pain of unpredictable but inevitable procedures approaching me during my especially-aged years. 

Monroe Street 

Campus Martius Park 

The Esplanade on Woodward Avenue

Congress Street (M-1 Rail [on foot])

Campus Martius  (M-1 Rail [on foot])

Grand Circus (M-1 Rail [on foot])

Montcalm Street (M-1 Rail [on foot])

Sproat Street / Adelaide Street (M-1 Rail [on foot])

Charlotte Street & Woodward Avenue - I ran into my beloved friend, Devin, here. A portrait of her graces the “top ten” shots of the day. I was following the path of the M-1 Rail down Woodward when I crossed Charlotte Street. I saw a car speeding toward me, coming from halfway down the block. There was a stop sign before Woodward, so I kept crossing and pointed to the car and then to the stop sign to indicate the legal need to decelerate soon (aside from the fact that they might hit me otherwise). I finished crossing ten-seconds before they reached where I walked, and I heard uproarious shouting behind me, which I figured was the driver’s disdain for my firmness. Then I heard something quite unexpected—my name. “Ryan! Ryan!,” they shouted. I had to look back now. The voice registered in my mind a picosecond before I saw the familiar face of my wondrously wonderful companion in this town, Devin. I had not seen her face since the last (or two times ago) David Klein Gallery artist talk that I had attended. We keep in touch via text. In fact, she is looking to upgrade her gear, and Tuesday of this same week, we chatted about what next she should buy. I suggested she get a full frame Nikon DSLR with an external audio input and output (D600 at least, because it is the cheapest [oldest]) Nikon body that fits this bill. She wants to instead get the “Black Magic Cinema Camera,” which currently is the smallest, cheapest, pro-video camera (I think it shoots in 4K raw). I ran up to Devin’s car. Her window was rolled down, so I reached in and hugged her. I was overjoyed to see her. She is a good person. She is a sweetheart. After hugging me back, she exclaimed that that was not good enough and got out of her car and hugged me more properly. Hahaha. We chatted for two-seconds, and I told her she knew what was next. She posed, and I photographed her for a minute. She explained that she is now driving for one of those modern-day taxi-like services for side cash. I wished her well, and we made plans to shoot together when the weather warms up. What a charge to the system that was! I was ready to take on the world (or at least Detroit)!

Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard / Mack Avenue (M-1 Rail [on foot])

Canfield Street (M-1 Rail [on foot])

Warren Avenue (M-1 Rail [on foot])

Ferry Street (M-1 Rail [on foot])

Amsterdam Street (M-1 Rail [on foot])

Baltimore Street (M-1 Rail [on foot])

Grand Boulevard (M-1 Rail [on foot])

Penske Tech Center (M-1 Rail [on foot]) - Having just completed walking the length of the line in just under one-hour, I told a stranger nearby my accomplishment. He smiled. 

The Fisher Building - This building is called by some “The Gem of Detroit.” I rather think that the Guardian Building is the gem of the city, but the Fisher Building and the Guardian Building each have immense glory to them, so I accept such a compliment for either. I think the Guardian Building is better than the Fisher Building, because the Guardian (to me) was more thoughtfully conceived on its outside. It also had details (down to the waitresses’ uniforms and the cutlery in the eating areas) chosen by the architect to match the building’s aesthetic. That said, the inside of the Fisher Building is grander than the one of the Guardian. There were stones mined into extinction that made it into the Fisher Building. While perhaps cruel, it is also majestic to see such extreme measures taken to ensure that the Fisher Building was a sight to behold (and one-of-a-kind at that). 

The DMC (Detroit Medical Center)

Milano Bakery - I had just walked (and at times jogged [across intersections with fading crosswalk countdowns]) the 3.3-mile length of the M-1 Rail (and then some). Then I walked from City Center, through Midtown, and into Eastern Market. I arrived fifteen-minutes early for my 11 AM meeting with my dear friend, Roy (I was surprised I had kept such a keen pace). After I visited with my security guard pal there, I found a table inside and plugged in my camera battery charger to charge a battery, and I waited for Roy’s arrival, which came at six past eleven. I was dead-tired and famished (I had very little for breakfast, and I certainly had walked myself into an appetite more fitting of a newly-minted marathon-finisher than what seemed appropriate given the distance I had just covered). This hunger suited Roy’s present mood as well quite conveniently.    

Tepanyaki Japanese Steakhouse - Roy had a hankering for “Chinese” food. We drove to Tepanyaki in his red Mercedes convertible. The front doors were deadbolted shut when we reached the entrance. As we took a few steps back, we noticed “For Lease” signs on the windows. Roy told me, “I had my heart on that place.” He did not know where else to grab food. I looked up a couple Chinese restaurants on my iPhone that were on Michigan Avenue. He did not like either option. He considered getting pizza at Dearborn Fresh Supermarket, but he decided against the idea. 

Greektown

Campus Martius Park

David Klein Gallery - Having been eight-hours since I took my physician-prescribed ibuprofen, I was due for the next pain pill. I held off taking it, wanting to test if I could go without the relief (to see if maybe I was improving and did not need the help). For better or worse (for worse… haha), this was when the artist talk occurred at the David Klein Gallery (3:00 PM [my next dose was due by 3:30 PM]). The talk had began, and I was sitting in the front row when an immense pain came over me, starting at the neck. The pain was localized to the point of the injury, but it seemed to echo through my body at times. I thought about getting up and excusing myself to the bathroom to take the ibuprofen, but this rare artist exchange was underway, and I was in the front row. Haha. The air-conditioning turned off a few minutes in, and I sat in what seemed to be an immense silence feeling the pain pulsate through my neck. The artists were speaking normally, and I was screaming inside. I was not at all going to produce a pain pill from my pocket and pop it into my gullet in front of everyone. That would have looked sketchy, even though it was anything but bad. I learned that with such pain, there is no distracting myself. I pride myself with being quite in control of my emotions and thoughts, but the pain was certainly a distraction too big to put off my mind. That said, I have had so much pain otherwise in my life that I have a pretty solid block face no matter if I desire to look so nondescript or not, so I hope I was not a distraction during the discussion. :—:— I asked a question of each of the two artists, Andrew Krieger and Alisa Henriquez (the third artist of the exhibition, Brad Howe, was in Malibu enjoying the not-cold there). Andrew left art to be a carpenter for a good while before returning to art just before doing this exhibit, so I asked him how his time in carpentry made him a different artist than he was before. He said that his experience with the CNC machine made him more apt (and adept) to build things. Alisa explained that some of her work on display was autobiographical and that she had drawn from images of many women to rewrite what she said was the mishandling of women in art as objects and otherwise lessers by men throughout the history of art. I asked her if any of her works were entirely about her. She said no. I further asked how she might produce a piece in the vein of her recent work that centered around a single woman instead of many women. She said that she would have to choose a female model as her subject that she did not know but who would completely open up to her. She said that that would be the only way to get the material needed to produce a piece as she would desire it. I commented without a response from her that that seemed to leave off looking back to instead look forward (implying a positive view ahead instead of a negative view behind [I thought to myself that though bad existed in the past, we had ought to see what good might be pursued in the present and even in the future]).

Campus Martius Park 

Monroe Street (in Greektown, near the First Baptist Church) - “THE MAN WITH THREE FIRST NAMES!” I shouted gleefully and freshly at my good pal, the faithful street saxophonist always playing with a direct musical link to his soul each moment in his performances, Mr. David Bosco Willis! He laughed, and we fist-bumped glove to glove. I asked him how he was, and he said that he was not well. He said, “I dropped my horn today when I got here, and now it is broken.” The lower keys would only produce a squeak, making it impossible to play as he desired. I asked for clarification about how it was not properly functioning. He said that there was a bend in the top that caused the keys on the bottom to have the issue. I always have some gaffer tape rolled around the miniature tripod I always have connected to my street-photography camera body (my beloved Nikon D800). I offered to give him all my tape on the tripod to see if he might be able to tape the offending pipe that was bent out of shape. He accepted, and I mentioned I had the rest of the actual gaffer tape roll in my car. Before seeing if this initial solution worked (the gaffer tape was a little less-tacky than the brand new variety on the roll), I told him I would be back with my roll of tape. He ascended to my journey, and when I came back, he said that the solution would have to allow movement of the pipe when he pushed the keys, which tape would not help, since the tape held to one position without bending back and forth. He still asked for some more tape, taking a shine to the idea of mine to have extra tape on hand in case of emergencies. I told him that a bungie cord might do the trick. He had one on him and said that it would still be too stiff for the instrument. I asked him what he planned to do to maintain his playing schedule despite his broken sax. He said he might rent one, since his cost him $200 (it was worth $700-$800 new). I scoffed at the idea, saying that renting was like buying in slow motion, sans ultimate ownership. He countered, saying it only cost $25 per month to rent a similar sax! I was taken aback! He said he could make back the $25 monthly fee in mere hours and make profit after that to save for his next sax! I pray he is blessed beyond his best bedtime visions in donations in the coming weeks and months!

Greektown

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WHAT WENT ON ON THIS DAY OUT IN DETROIT?

I followed the M-1 Rail down Woodward Avenue with the idea of making a video from clips taken at each stop on one side of the street. I ran into my dear friend, Devin. She is a beam of light in this town. It was a chance encounter, but it charged me for the rest of the day. I also made it at long last to the Fisher Building (for the first time in a long time). I plan to return soon. I went to an artists’ talk at the David Klein Gallery and asked questions of artists, Andrew Krieger and Alisa Henriquez. I ran into my pal (with ”three first names”), David Bosco Willis. The jazz man had the broken-horn-blues (he dropped his sax when he arrived, and it squeaked on the lower keys, making regular playing probably impossible [if that makes sense!]).

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⋰B⋰U⋰Z⋰Z⋰W⋰O⋰R⋰D⋰S⋰

“Inside baseball” concepts talked about in this Detroit Street Photography Session  —

●  M-1 Rail - This 3.3 mile streetcar line from downtown to midtown to city center in Detroit originally started as a municipally-funded project. The city in all its bureaucratic entanglements took so long to progress the project that the richest man in the city, Dan Gilbert, offered to fund the project himself, provided he take ownership of the line. The city agreed, and in three-years, the three (and some) miles were completed. At first, the line was to go much further than three (and some) miles within a small part the city. In fact, it was to stretch beyond Detroit into Royal Oak and even Birmingham (as of 2011), but voters rejected the idea, with many expressing fear over unsavory folks (drug dealers and the homeless) having easier access to the suburbs of Detroit. The line was completed and running by mid-2017. 

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