With one month to go until we can officially get out more, it still feels like forever since life shifted.
It was such a seismic shift for many that some things seem to have happened in a dream. Hugs, handshakes, interacting without a mask on, it all seems, well, alien. I’ve said before that there is no such thing as ‘normal’ and there probably never was. We are constantly evolving in our lives. It is hard to look back sometimes without rose tinted specs on and I guess that’s why I didn’t plunder the archives for my Instagram feed.
It’s been difficult not to. Reminiscing about old shoots, old events, the ‘good old days’ just wasn’t something I wanted to do.
Last week, that changed.
A new client has purchased some assets for using on their new website yet to launch, and I went down a very happy rabbit hole for a while. So why not share that? Here it is. A shoot with a classic Ford Thunderbird.
It isn’t a real word but who cares? This is what the car has. A lazy engine, slushmatic column mounted automatic gearbox and about 3 tonnes of chrome. It is everything that I said we need back again in modern cars – good looking!
Similar to modern Range Rovers, it has vents that vent nothing. The rear wheel covers need to be removed to change a wheel or top up the air. That’s as practical as the ball-bag seat holders provided in the latest BMW M cars. But look at it. It’s subjectively pretty. Chrome inside and out isn’t going to survive an NCAP going over but that’s missing the point.
It even survived the cardinal sin of photographing it on, or in this case very much in, grass.
The potholes it rode over could have hidden a small child yet it just wafted across and into the field not a bother.
The wild west. Midlands.
It was a gloriously warm day rolling around in that old Ford. Bolt on tracking shots, parking in fields, gliding steadily over a camera flash. Eh?
Ah, yes, here’s another important lesson you can learn from others misfortune. If, IF, you are going to try some arty, farty, tarty shots AND you’ve been placing lights all around the car to try something, remember to check you’ve picked everything up before the car is put away.
It wasn’t Ben’s fault that he didn’t feel a thing. That soft waft over £500 worth of Canon flash was dispatched as smoothly as the potholed grassland we had entered. It was the end of the shoot and, as ever, it was a trial and error shot. I tried. I errored.
Still, you live and learn.
“Chance takers are accident makers”