In photography, as in life, timing is everything. This young man was sitting on the round bike rack in front of this shuttered Starbucks on Ninth Avenue, perfectly framed between the two windows. But by the time I got the camera out, he'd moved. So it's okay, but I missed the great shot it could have been.
I'm shocked and saddened to report that my Fitbit, ordinarily so eager to log my activity (or lack of activity) decided that painting a closet doesn't count as an aerobic workout.
I beg to differ. I did two coats yesterday and have one more to do today, and I was a breathless, quivering, sweaty mess by the time I was done. I might reconsider painting the rest of the bedroom myself and just give in and hire someone. We'll see how I feel when I get back.
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