Hey you guys. Welcome to the blog where I talk about the past. If you want to read about the present, here's the link. Anyway, when I was lying on my back for so long, one way to pass the time was to think about the past. I used to think about stories and things that happened to me. One time I kept bumping into this rock star non-stop. It was weird. It happened every week for like a month. It started with me and him getting on an empty elevator. We had a little chat. The following week I saw the same guy in duty free customs and getting stopped. We had a chat. And then the next week I saw the same guy in a bar in New York. We had a chat. The next week I saw the guy in Harbour Island, the Bahamas. We had a chat. The guy was looking at me kind of funny. I think he thought I was a stalker. The following week I was on a photo shoot in Jamaica. The manager of the resort I was shooting at called me over. He said, "Can I talk to you for a moment?" Mind you, I was checking in. He called me over to his office and there was the rock star. He said, "Mr. So & So would like to extend his stay. It's your room. Would you mind if he stayed on." I said, "Where the hell and I supposed to sleep? By the pool?" Anyway, I offered to spoon with him but he didn't think it was funny. He stormed out of the office, grabbed his girlfriend and took off in his own personal helicopter.
I'm trying to think of other stories from the past. One reader of this blog suggested I tell some more photo assistant stories. Oh my God! I wouldn't know where to begin. It could be a whole other blog on its own. I had this one girl as a photo assistant. She decided to change my film, 8X10 film. You need to do this in total darkness. Well, she brought all the film and all the 8X10 inch folders into the changing room and she closed her eyes tight and didn't turn off the light. So she changed the film in total lightness but her eyes were closed. I think she was cross bred with an ostrich. Anyway, the stories go on and on. I'll include some photos I'm doing now. Hope you guys have a great week. And remember how lucky you are - not to have a photo assistant. Just kidding. They actually have saved my ass many times. In fact, I'm sitting here right now because of a photo assistant. He saved my life. Talk to you soon, with another story. Love, B. Nice
Hi everybody. Welcome to stories from the past. They're stories I used to think about when I was lying on my back for years and years.
One time I got done shooting and I went to my friend's house for dinner. Dinner turned into drinks. Time got long. And next think you know, it's like 1 am, and I was very drunk. It was a time in my life when I was also very poor so I decided to take the bus home. Mind you, I lived in a suburb just outside of Sydney Australia. The bus was the last bus and it made all the local stops all the way to Manly. It took a good 2 hours. Anyway, at each stop the people that got on seemed to be drunker and drunker. Next thing you know, people were taking turns getting up and singing. They were all singing bar songs and cheering along. A cheerful bunch. Anyway, they were giving some guy at the front of the bus a hard time and finally he stood up and bellowed out a ballad that was unreal. The guy must have been a professional singer. The girls were at the edge of their seats in awe. The guys were watching him, all quiet, with their mouths open. The bus came to a stop and he got off. The guys on the bus went, "Yeah, yeah, he was all right. He was good." It was a great scene.
I used to love living over there in Manly. I used to take a ferry to get there. It was just outside of Sydney. What a great place. I would shoot there as often as I could. Australia was a great place to start out in photography. I did about 2 editorial shoots a week. In New York, everything became commercial. You used to work your ass off just to pay the bills. Remember, if you're a young photographer, it's important to keep up the editorial and the commercial.
Not much else to say. I'll include some photos of the trip I did across the country and a link to the other blog about the present. It was tough man. I'll tell you. I could barely lift the camera. My friends did a documentary of the trip. I'll share with you soon. Hope you have a good week. Love, B. Nice
Hey everybody. Welcome to stories from the past. I write about things that happened to me when I was a fashion photographer. Oh man, one time I was flying back to Australia. The day before my departure a model I knew gave me 2 sleeping pills for the flight. She said, "Take one pill only. They're very strong." And like a young idiot, I accepted the pills and carried them with me on the flight. Well, halfway through the flight I took one sleeping pill. An hour went by and nothing happened so I thought, she's just messing with me, but just to be safe I cut the other pill in half and took it. Nothing happened so I ordered a cognac. Drank it down and nothing happened. I ordered another cognac. I drank it. Next thing you know, I woke up to half a glass of cognac poured into my lap. I was still holding an empty glass. There was a flight attendant coming down the walkway with water. I was extremely thirsty and I held up my hand, but my arms were asleep. I couldn't talk. I had fallen asleep with my arms across my chest. I was leaning against the window with my mouth open. I sounded like a mummy, a resurrected mummy. I tried to say "water" but nothing but a groan came out of my mouth. She was frightened and ran off. The guy next to me said, "Mate! I thought you were dead. I checked your pulse on your neck." I fell asleep for 10 hours straight. We left LA, I was in Sydney. It felt like a couple of minutes went by. Now that's a strong sleeping pill. I've never taken them since.
All of these stories I'm telling are random stories from the past. There was one resort south of Miami. It was in the keys actually. I used to always go there to shoot. It was a great spot for a photographic shoot. Anyway, the guy that owned the resort said, "You look so tired. Take break." So I thought, You know what, I've got a week off. I'll stay here is that cool. he said yeah, no problem. Satay here. I thought, well, since I'm staying here, I'll get a massage. He recommended somebody. I called him up and they came to my cabin and it all seemed good. And then the woman said, There's not enough room in your cabin to do a massage. Why don't we go outside under the palm trees. Mind you I'm completely naked except for my boxer shorts so I said, "Do you mind if I wear my boxers at least?" She said yeah, no problem. She set up the massage table under a coconut tree. I was lying on my back with a towel over me. Mind you, what I'm about to describe happened in less than a minute. She said, "We gotta lose the shorts. They're a distraction." So she whipped off my shorts. So I look up and there are a bunch of coconuts above me and there was a photo crew next to me making all sorts of comments and then the wind blew my towel off. So there I was, naked with the other crew laughing and my masseuse running after my towel. Relaxing, right?
Oh man, there was this one time… oh, I can't tell you that story. Let's go on to the next paragraph.
Actually, I'm gonna end it there. My friend here will include some photos I did on my trip across America. I hope you have a good week. Love, B. Nice
Oh, here's a link to the other website in case you want to check it out.
Hi you guys. Welcome once again to the past. Remember, the other blog I do is about the present. This one is about the past. I think about the past a lot when I'm lying on my back. You know, sometimes I can't sleep at night so I think about things I've gone through. You know, well, some confessions. For example: One time, my friend was over my house. Mind you, I was a little kid. The guy cutting the lawn started sinking into the lawn. My friend and I ran out to help him pull the tractor out. We cleared away the sod and we noticed he was stuck in a door in the lawn. We cleared away more sod and noticed there was a big big door there. Remember, the house I'm in was built around 1800. So my friend and I were excited over the prospect of finding something from the Revolutionary War. Anyway, we opened the door and there was a pit of brick that went down about 14 feet. We lowered a ladder down, and my friend wanted to go down and be the first to check things out. He found another door and I lowered a crowbar to him. He forced the door open. I heard gas escaping and a large scream. The next thing I know is there's a geyser of shit and toilet paper coming up. My friend was racing up the ladder screaming. We had hit the main septic line. He was covered in shit. He dove onto the lawn. My father came running out. The whole pit started filling up with raw sewage. My father was not happy. We all stood around praying it wouldn't escape onto the whole yard. After staring at a bunch of turds for a while, my friend said, "Hey! what's that?" and he picked up a shovel and picked up a condom. My dad looked at me and just rolled his eyes and walked away. I think I told you that story before, but it sounds good again. You know, my life was full of little adventures like that.
When I was little, my parents rented a small shack in the south of France. This was before it became trendy. When I mean shack, I mean shack. This place had a hand pump for water in the kitchen, an outhouse for a bathroom. It was cool though. We had a big field. I would lie in the field and look at the clouds. There was a big cherry tree there. I would sit there and eat cherries. Sometimes the farmer down the street would come over and recruit us to do some work. It was a good life. Never a dull moment.
I have lots of stories to tell you, but I have to look back and make sure I don't repeat myself. I'm gonna leave it at that. I hope you guys have a good week. My friend here will include some photos I did on my journey. We went coast to coast. Not an easy thing to do when you're like this, you know, traumatic brain injury. See you next week. Love, B. Nice
