Snapshot of Little 5 crazies

This past weekend I shot DJ and rapper Fatman Scoop at Jake's Nightclub in downtown Bloomington. Shot in the photographic sense of the word, of course, for the Indiana Daily Student. It was the end of Little 500 week, when the campus is basically wasted the entire week in the name of a bicycle race.

When I first biked over at 11:30 p.m., it was far too early and the place could have been a graveyard. I biked home, worked on a paper for an hour, and when I biked back the mood was picking up a bit.

I walked around outside, shooting the lines at Kilroy's Sports Bar that wrapped around the corner and disappeared down the alley. I shot the line of students at the ATM across the street. I shot the police cars outside the bar, and a policeman helping some girl whose foot was bleeding.

"Are you a photographer?" a girl asked as she stumbled into me. "Who are you shooting for? I'm a journalism major, ahahaha." I gave her a look that said, "I don't want to talk with you," and she teetered away. I turned to shoot a street vendor selling hot dogs.

I went back to Jake's in hopes that Fatman would be doing his thing so I could shoot him and go home. The first thing he said to announce his presence was, "This looks like a motherfuckin high school party. None of you fuckers are dancing. And turn the damn light off - no one wants to see me." Oh shat, I do! Have a little love for photographers.

Then the music kicked up a notch, I gave thanks to the Lord Almighty for my earplugs, and Fatman was rapping, "Put your hands in the air, motherfuckers. Put your hands in the air, motherfuckers." The place throbbed with the beat, with undergrads grinding into each other, with beer spilling onto my sandals. I put my eye to the box of my viewfinder and tried to coax my camera into focusing despite the flashing lights and jostles. I shot what I needed, then headed back into the warm night to take a shower and go to bed like the old grad student that I am.

People thought I was crazy to sign up for this event. "How'd you get into that gig?," a friend asked. I wonder the same myself. I think it's the same reason I'm addicted to traveling and put myself in all kinds of new and awkward situations. It's about the experience. It's about the awkwardess and seeing, feeling and breathing someone else's world. Call me crazy, but I love this stuff. I thrive on awkwardness. I laugh when I'm uncomfortable. And I put my motherlovin hands in the air.