Stuff.  There’s an all encompassing title.  Could be anything.  Other titles for this could be et cetera.  (and other stuff); what’s happenin’ (t.v. show); what’s on my mind (twitter me a riddle)…

Tomorrow there I’ll be participating in a documentary about H.L. with some other photographers that will be filmed in various places around the city during Halloween.  So that takes care of Saturday.

So far, almost every weekend for the last two months has had something happening, photo lessons, interviews, or just family stuff.  It feels like it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to just goof off.  I sit here now waiting for someone to pick up a 24 x 30 print of – yes you guessed it – Poet’s Walk.  And I begin to see how the photography thing turned into “just another job.”

It’s true, that it’s a job of my own choice; and that it has the appeal of being poorly paid and poorly supervised.  And there is the added excitement of wondering whether you’ll be “discovered” while you are still ambulatory.

That being said – I’m often questioned by friends and family when I tell them that I’m embarking on some new idea.  Reaction to the site from two siblings: “You just keep thinkin’ Butch, that’s what you’re good at.”

I’m seen as a dreamer.  And I’m sure I’m not the only one.  But it’s not the dream itself that intrigues me, it’s the idea of that yellow brick road, and the twists and turns.  It’s not knowing what will happen.  I’m sure that in another age I would have been a treasure hunter.  I can see myself as Tim Holt in Treasure of Sierra Madre – not even recognizing gold when I was standing on it.  And then the whole surprise about how discovering the gold was not the big thing – it was all the work that went into it.

That’s how I feel with the project right now.  One day I make 19 cents, the next I pull in 8 bucks.  But the number of visitors increases each day.  That is where the gold lies.  I feel sure of it.  But I sit down to read one of my own books that I’ve downloaded (after it’s been scanned) and it sure has a bunch of typos.  I see that the conversion program is having a problem translating the ‘dash.’  Hmmm.  And I’ve painted the site pink for some reason that made sense at the time.  Was I trying to suggest blood?

And that phrase comes to mind again, You just keep thinkin’ Butch.  That’s what you’re good at.

And I remember so many ideas that failed.  Just with the photo site alone I could list 20 things that didn’t pan out and that took a fair amount of time and energy.

Biggest one was the “Make Your Own Screensaver” idea.  The idea was to use a program to let people select the photos they wanted from the site, arrange them, pay me a few bucks and I’d send them a screensaver with their photos that they could use anywhere.  Of course no one would pay for that – and this was years before you could make your own screensaver for free on place like Flickr (though I don’t think you can use other people’s photos…?)

Ring….  show and tell time…

They arrive and are very pleased with the large Poets Walk print… I roll it carefully into a tube; and after showing some other prints; return to the email I was doing where I apologize for not getting some prints out fast enough and fortunately am told that sending them on Monday is good enough.

At the same time, I get a request from the documentary person for an interview on Sunday or Monday.  Sunday – gotta get out to dad’s.

So I’ve got to get these guys printed and matted today; and have them ready to ship on Monday and then out to Williamsburg  to be interviewed on hi-def tape…  In other words,  a few  month ago I went to the bank and realized I needed more income streams if I was going to survive this recession – and that’s how the photo lessons started, and the site, and a bunch of serious thinking about where I was in this world – money-wise.

You keep thinkin’ Butch — that’s what you’re good at.


Published by


My name is Dave Beckerman. I am a fine art photographer working in New York City.

2 thoughts on “Stuff”

  1. Just imagine how insufferable you’d become if you “made it big.” You’re insufferable enough as it is!

    If you had sufficient funds to live without worry, you’d be lying around reading mysteries all day instead of creating beautiful art.

Comments are closed.