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One Saturday afternoon, my wife and I headed to downtown Seattle to roam around in search of good light for some portrait shots for a homework assignment. On the bus ride down, someone sitting behind us ask if I was a picture taker because my tripod was sticking out of my backpack. From years of traveling on public transportation and having people ask for money or just be downright belligerent, my initial reaction was to just ignore him. But something told me otherwise and I soon realized that he was quite harmless, even friendly. So we started chatting.
He was very interested in photography and asked about the types of photos I like to take and if Iâ€™d ever been published. When I told him I hadnâ€™t, he was certain that someday I would be and that heâ€™d keep me in his prayers. He said he was a Baptist Chickasaw-Choctaw (I believe) from Oklahoma.
We continued talking for the rest of the trip downtown. He seemed to be very warm-hearted with an infectious laugh and smile. So I asked him if I could take his picture, and he happily obliged. But then, when I pointed my camera at him, the big endearing smile disappeared and was replaced by this almost Mona Lisa-like smirk.
After asking where we were going to dinner and I told him we hadnâ€™t decided yet, he said something quite romantic, â€œMcDonaldâ€™s or McCormickâ€™s, it doesnâ€™t really matter as long as youâ€™re with the right person.â€ Itâ€™s unexpected moments like this that make me love photography even more.
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