This was THE most mellow intersection I shot.  I chose it for it’s beautiful architecture and it’s location really in the heart of Koreatown.   I shoot several days on this intersection and was having a hard time finding something I thought was truly compelling.  I can’t explain it other then, when you get the shot, you get this feeling…you just know.

On this day, I was shooting and had this subtle feeling of uneasiness at the man in the green coat.  I didn’t really think about it too much, but my radar went up.  So much so that I stopped shooting and looked up the street in the direction he had turned. (He didn’t cross the street with the other gentleman, but turned right before the cross walk and headed in that direction.)  When I looked up the street, sure enough, he was crossing the street to my side and doubling back in my direction.

What to do?  Something was not right, I thought maybe he might be angry I was taking pictures, but he didn’t know for sure I had gotten his, so I decided to keep shooting in the direction I had been and play it cool.  I saw him pass in front of my cameras, and then heard a WHACK.  When I looked over, my Flip Cameras (which I had mounted on a weighted, round base microphone stand) were flying back at me, the cameras tweaked on their screws.  The man in the green jacket had disappeared around the corner.

*Pause*  Inner voice “I think you got the shot.  Pack it up and head home.”  I like to listen to that voice and that is what I did.  Upon further examination of the photos when I got home, I realized the man in green had a 1X3 piece of lumber stuck up his jacket sleeve and partially hidden behind his Korean newspaper.  I believe that is what he used to hit my cameras that day.  And man, am I lucky he was nice enough not to hit my head with it.