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Post shoot buzz phenomenon

After a trawl of half a dozen charity shops on the High Street for anything pretty or chic or an accessory like a cute purse or bag or hat or shoes etc etc etc I got home empty handed and went back to the demolition site.  The few workers who'd been there earlier had gone and the gates were locked.

Plan B.  I'd brought some thick gloves and was wearing a thick fleece.  I managed to leap across the ditch full of brackish water without getting a boot full of stinky mud.  There was a little strip of bank on other side, right up against the security fencing so I could inch my way along, holding onto the fence as I moved.  The brambles were like hypo needles, straight through the gloves and my jeans.  In places the nettles were over 7' tall and I eventually got a faceful.  When I'm photographing - even a dressing up shoot - I go into 'keep going' mode and any cuts and rashes were a minor inconvenience in the bid to get some photographs taken.

After 90 minutes or maybe more I'd made my way the 100 metres to the point where the viewpoint vanished behind a brick wall and that was it.  The post buzz high that usually accompanies the hour after a shoot vanished in two minutes, feeling 'That was a fuckin' waste of time then'.  Perhaps because of the stupid limitation of shooting at the perimeter fence.  I'd thought of sneaking through a gap someone (thieves?) had made but security eventually showed up and it would have been embarassing being kicked out.  It wasn't the guy I'd seen before - the one with the pit bull.  If there's no dog on the loose I might be back and through that hole in the fence next time.

Walking back home and at a pedestrian crossing a police car pulled up at the red stop light .  Carrying a thick pair of gloves on a hot afternoon, even I thought I looked a bit suspicious. (Even more so than usual.)  They must have thought 'Photographer' and filed it under 'not worth the hassle'.