I'm scare shitless of taking pictures of strangers. I have no balls, no guts. Like mostly everybody I guess, my fear holds me back. The only problem is that I want to become a good portrait photographer. So I have to face the fear.
I've been walking my dogs by Victor's Hair Salon in Van Nuys a few nights a week for about three years now and when it is slow, this one hairdresser, always dressed for a party, kills the time by sitting in his client chair, kicking up his feet and staring off into the mirror. I swore to myself the other night that if I walked by and he was there and striking his pose, I'd run home and grab my camera and find the courage to ask him if I could take his portrait.
His name is Jose. He was happy to sit for me, although he was a little self conscious because of the ribbing he took from his co-workers. I rushed home and made a couple of prints for him and returned with them within an hour or so and the look on his face was priceless. They asked me in Spanish if I'd do the whole salon next time.
I went to bed that night feeling like I had just conquered Everest.