I can’t tell you how many times I’ve passed Dusty. You can hear his music before you see him. A soulful riff floating along the outer edges of Washington Square Park. Sometimes it greets you in the morning, lifting you out of a sleepwalking stumble. Other times it meets you after a long day on the clock, a gentle reminder to enjoy what little day you have left. I can’t help but smile when I hear Dusty jamming, and I’ve been carrying around his portrait waiting for the perfect opportunity to pay him back.

More Contact after the break…

I was walking home one particularly chilly winter night when I spotted Dusty playing under the arch. He was doing his thing in front of a small crowd, and I walked over to listen in. As he played he kept floating over gigantic floodlights, and I couldn’t leave without firing off some images. Looking over the negatives later, this frame jumped out. I could claim I had this thing pre-visualized, but really it was the perfect combination of light and timing. Still, it captured Dusty in his groove, and I made a nice print to give him next time our paths crossed.

Six months ago and I hadn’t seen him. I carried that portrait the whole time, waiting for the cahnce to share it with him. Then last week, out of nowhere, I heard his music again. He was stoked, loved the way the light caught his eye, and asked if he could use it as “a t-shirt or album cover or something?”I was stoked, told him as much, and thanked him by asking for a second portrait.