"Make me look like Brad Pitt," he said as he shifted his beer from one hand to the other.
I fiddled with the camera and thought about that request. I told him I’d do my best. I hadn’t used the camera in two months and it felt foreign to me. What did this knob do, again? Which number meant what? Shit, I think I need to stand on a chair.
He waited, patiently. I guess that’s one of the good things about photographing a photographer, they understand what’s going on and don’t fret if you repeatedly mutter to yourself as you climb on and off of a dangerously old rolling chair as it slides around on a hard wood floor. They’ve done that too at some point.
Once I finally had it right, I counted backwards from 3 and clicked. We both started laughing and waited eagerly for it to develop.
When I peeled off the back and we looked at the image, I told him I didn’t think I did a very good job making him look like Brad Pitt. His response was, “I love it. I fucking love it.”
- Jaret Ferratusco (Corpse on Pumpkin), February 6, 2014.