Everytime I sign up for a grassroots drift event, I hear this imaginary voice saying, “Hey, you’re going to drive, not take pictures. You need the seat time! Don’t bring the camera! Why are you packing a telephoto?!” It further devolves into creepier depths of schizofrenia, but I always end up checking out of the conversation all the same. In retrospect, this is probably part of why I still suck at drifting.
Time is a constantly changing variable that progresses on a linear path. Whether we like it or not, it’s always moving forward, and we cant help but plot our own positions in relation to that ever lengthening x-axis. To put it simply, some things change and some things stay the same. In our case, the watermark is new and the pictures are hgher-res, but we’re still gonna be those awkward nerds with big cameras.
It’s no secret that I’ve been drift motivated lately. Not much else has crossed my mind in my spare time. So while these skid racing posts may be taking over the front page as of late… you’ll just have to deal with it; I run this ship. (xoxox)
Last year, Wayne and I headed up to Dallas to see Round 6 of Formula D. I got to meet some of my multimedia role models and favorite drifters. I finally was able to experience professional level drifting in person for the first time and it was an amazing experience… But still, I wasn’t satisfied. Why? I wanted to see the action as a photographer, shoulder to shoulder with my idols, not through a fence and over them. So when Aaron Losey got Texas Motor Speedway booked for a round of LSD, Wayne and I couldn’t resist making another roadtrip up to play pro in the tracks hot areas like we were important or something.
I had a job this previous weekend and the powers that be decided it would be more efficient for me to make the trip between Louisville, KY and Houston, TX entirely by driving. “No big deal,” I thought, “I can dictate my own stops and breaks and take in the sights!” That is if I managed to figure out something notable to spend time on during my exit of Kentucky at the end of the job.
Cold skies give way to warm gulf breezes, birds chirp merrily as they take care of their hatchlings and delight in pooping on newly detailed autos, and of course the flora covers everything in sight with yellow pollen that makes the antihistamine manufactures need a cold shower. Of course it wouldn’t be spring in Houston without Anime Matsuri to ring in the transition from OMG I can’t feel my fingers to OMG I’ve immolated all over myself.