There is yet to be a photo-walk that involved a busy market place which did not wake me up in a jiffy. Most of the walks we head out to happen to be in the mornings, on weekends or on national holidays. So you end up squeezing the best of a Friday and then wake up to the lazy Saturday morning click-aroo. And, you mechanically grab the tooth brush, zombie through the rest of the routines, grab the camera and head out.
The first five minutes at or near the venue is usually a huddle,getting to know the new faces, recalling the old ones. And then, you enter the market. It’s like waking up to the sun when you expected the moon, a bitch slap.
When the sun rises to a high, killing all the hues and taking the textures with it, you call it a day. It’s time to reminisce the moments when you grabbed time by the hem of its drapes.