All posts by Brian Nice

June 21, 2017

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Hi everybody. Welcome to my blog where I talk about the past.

I forgot to mention one other thing about my hair dresser friend.

I was in the Bahamas. We had had a few drinks and were out late. Imagine that. Now. my friend the hair dresser, got in rather late. He collapsed on his bed. Now, I like to shoot early morning light so the model was due to show up at his room at 4:30 am. He heard a knock at the door. Got up, in his clothes from the night before. Went to the door. Opened up the door. Now, mind you, he is Greek/Japanese. He opened the door and he said, “You wook fine.” And slammed the door. I’ll never forget. That’s my favorite story about my friend the hair dresser.

That’s all for today. Don’t forget to check out my other blog. Have a good week.

Love, B. Nice

 

June 12, 2017

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Hi everybody, welcome to my blog where I talk about my past. Or, should I say, my sordid past?

Man, I got a bad haircut. I looked like Jim Carey in dumb & dumber. So, what did I do? I called up my friend who I used to work with. I hadn’t seen him in ages, but he agreed to come up and rescue me. You know, fix my hair. It was great to see him and his new family. He has a new baby. Anyway, in my living room, I have my suitcase filled with my journals. There are a lot. You see, I used to keep my personal journals in cartoon form. It’s fun to look back at them. The reason why I bring it up is my friend started to look through my journals and found some things we did together. We had some great trips. I think I told you this already, but oh man, this one time, I was in the Bahamas with my friend and the editor of the magazine we were working with. Well, after dinner, we all walked down on a moonlit pier. The pier was high, like 30 feet high. The editor looked over the edge and said, “That’s a long way down. Kind of scary.” So what did I do? I pushed her in, and then I jumped in after her. I think she managed to say, “You guys are all CRAZY,” before she hit the water. Good thing she could swim. I didn’t even think about that. I still have scars from that shoot. I won’t go into details, but it was fun. Oh, and by the way, on the way to dinner, my assistant and I saw an asteroid hit the earth’s atmosphere. It was cool. It was like a stone skipping across water, then it blew up. It all happened so fast. It was amazing. You don’t see that everyday.

One other great trip we took was in the Bahamas as well. I was on a small plane with my friend and my crew. There was another group of young women. They were really pretty, really petit. I started talking to them. I said, “What’s going on? What are you guys doing?” They obviously looked like they were on a photoshoot. They said they were from Playboy magazine and they were there to do a shoot. I asked a girl what her name was, and she just said her name was Miss June. I thought that was pretty fun. A few days later, she was in the talent contest at the resort. She was singing. And there was my drunken friend yelling, “June, June, June,” right before he passed out.

We did lots of fun trips. I kind of miss the good old days, although I probably wouldn’t have survived them if I kept going at the pace I was going.

I’ll keep it short because it’s super hot here. The heat plus humidity really affect me. Just another bonus for a TBI person.

Talk to you next week. Check out my other blog. Love, B. Nice

May 8, 2017

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Hi everybody. Welcome to the blog where I talk about my past.

Let’s call this blog: Things that fall out of the sky.

The first story takes place in NYC, around the early ’90’s. I worked for a photographer in Carnegie Hall. Right next door, there was a large skyscraper going up. Our landlord came to the door and said, “Stay away from the skylights.” We were confused, so followed the elevator man to the main street. We looked up in the sky to see what looked like popsicle sticks fluttering off the new skyscraper. As they got closer, we realized they were not popsicle sticks. They were huge pieces of timber that crashed onto the street. When they hit the ground, they exploded. Some went through windows. It was pretty dramatic. And, no, none of them went through our skylights.

When I was a photographer in the ’90’s, I often took TWA flight 800 to Paris. The flight, one night, fell out of the sky. The main fuel tank burst into flames and fell out of the sky. Weeks later, I was in the Hamptons taking my friend’s sea kayak out. A police military humvee pulled up and asked me to go out towards the horizon and collect some burnt clothing. I freaked out and thought, “I hope there’s no body in that clothing.” As I got closer, I realized, it was just a hat. I retrieved it, went back to shore. I gave it to these huge marines and told them there was sea lice in it. They jumped around like a bunch of ten year old girls, and threw the hat in the back of their vehicle. They drove off.

Another thing that fell out of the sky I don’t talk about much. Yes, I dropped an 85 mm / 1.4 lens (very expensive lens) out of a helicopter and into the Grand Canyon. Not my finest moment.

One positive thing that fell out of the sky was pretty cool. I told you about it already, but I was location scouting out west. I looked up and there was a huge bald eagle nest above me. There were a bunch of babies in the nest. Then a single feather came spiraling down and landed right at my feet. Luckily none of the parents were around. That was a pretty cool moment.

That’s all for now. Check out my other blog where I talk about the present. Have a good week. Love, B. Nice

May 1, 2017

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Hi everybody. Welcome to my blog where I talk about the past.

I’m gonna make this blog a little short. You know, when I did fashion photography, I learned one of the most important things was to shoot in nice light. I know the client will freak out a little, but really, the only good light is about two hours in the morning and two hours at night. I used to shoot everything backlit. It made the models look good. It made the clothes look good. It was a magical moment. Mind you, you have to work your ass off for those two hours. You have to be ready, get everything all lined up to go. But the results are worth it. Believe me.

When I was at lunch today, I heard an Australian accent at the table next to me. It reminded me of Australia and what a great apartment I had. It was a good time there. Come to think of it, I’ve been lucky getting good places wherever I lived. Paris, New York, Montauk. You name it. I’ve been lucky.

I’ll leave it at that. Remember, stay positive and have a laugh if you have TBI. Otherwise, everything can be too depressing. Have a laugh. I watch the comedy channel, but it reminds me of the current administration. Ta ta. Check out my other blog.

Love, B. Nice

April 17, 2017

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Hi everybody. Welcome to my blog where I talk about my past.

Hey everybody. Happy Easter. A belated Happy Easter. I know it came and went, but I wanted to tell you a couple of stories about rabbits. I thought it would be appropriate (or inappropriate, I should say).

I think I told you this story before, but I’m gonna tell you it again, because it’s about rabbits. You see, a long time ago, when I was a kid, we had a cat, a one eye’d cat. It was not affectionate by any means. It was an ornery, mean, orange cat. Well, one morning, I was sitting up in bed, and the cat jumped up on my bed. I thought, wow, how unusual, he’s being affectionate. He wants me to pet him. Well, the cat was stalking towards me and hiccuping. I thought, well, is there something wrong with him? And as he moved closer and closer to me his hiccups became more and more intense. I soon realized he was not hiccuping but throwing up in his mouth. And just as he got within feet of me, he threw up a bunch of baby rabbits. As he threw up he backed away. It was a whole nest of baby rabbits he ate. Nice gift, right? I can still see them all in my minds eye. I won’t go into details, but it wasn’t pretty. You see? He was a mean cat.

Another story about rabbits I think I also already told you: I was in college and I thought, “I’ll get a pet, a pet rabbit.” So I went out and bought a red satin rabbit. It was the largest of any of the rabbits you could buy. It was the size of a small dog. His name was Andrew. Well, Andrew was quite a novelty. Apparently, you can house train a rabbit, but all Andrew did was kick cat litter all over the apartment. He chewed on everything. He pretty much destroyed our apartment. My roommates wanted to make a stew out of him. When I was leaving college, a friend said that he would like to adopt Andrew. He said to me, “Andrew might be a good chick magnet.” But all Andrew did was eat all of his ELO and Kenny Loggins albums. Oh yeah, one other thing. If you ever buy a red satin rabbit, don’t ever put a collar on it and put a leash on it. The thing will freak out. Have you ever heard a rabbit scream? The neighbors must have thought I was a little strange.

The last story about rabbits I have, I know I told you, but I’m gonna tell you anyway. My uncle thought it would be a good idea to go out and hunt rabbits in his pickup truck. They were everywhere and they were a menace. Well, we all got up early, loaded our shotguns, got in the back of the pick up, and set off to better the farming community and rid them of this menace. Well, we drove all morning and didn’t see one rabbit for about two hours. Then, all of a sudden, this little baby bunny came out of the grass on to the road. It was the cutest smallest bunny you’ve ever seen. What happened next? Well my uncle slammed on the brakes and yelled “RABBIT!” We all stood up with our shot guns and blew the beast away. There was nothing left but a whole in the ground. You can imagine what three twelve gauge shotguns can do to a little bunny. I won’t mention what happened to the right side of my uncle’s truck.

That’s all the rabbit stories I have. Happy belated Easter. Check out my other blog where I talk about the present.

March 19, 2017

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Whenever my health assistant comes over to help me cook, I tell a story while I’m waiting for something to cook or bake. My health assistant asked me what really sticks out in my mind, and it’s always three things: 1. I remember I was in New Guinea. I must have been about 11 years old. I had long blond hair. I met a tribal elder at a “Sing Sing.” A peace party where two fighting tribes make peace. The tribal elder was mystified by my hair so I gave him a piece of my hair. He gave me some bows and arrows from his personal stash. When he was giving me the bows and arrows, he held my hand, pet my head and said something. I’ll never forget his hand. It was a cross between a human hand and the rainforest. Amazing.

The second thing I’ll never forget was one time I was location scouting in the forest. I was just standing in the forest looking around. I heard a noise. I looked up. There was a gigantic bald eagle nest right above me. All of a sudden, one single feather fell out of the nest and landed at my feet. It was a gigantic feather. Pretty cool.

The third thing I’ll never forget is when my daughter was born. It was cool. I was the first thing she looked at after they suctioned out her eyes. She just looked at me after I said, “Welcome.” I think she smiled. But kids, when they’re just born aren’t able to smile. But I think she did.

That’s all for now. Here’s a link to my other blog where I talk about the present.

February 27, 2017

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Hi you guys. Welcome to my blog where I talk about the past.

Let’s call this blog: Lighting, ladders & long tables. I’ll explain everything.

Lighting. Well, I worked for this one photographer that said lighting was the key to taking a good photo. When I’d get to a location, I’d walk around, I’d look lackadaisical, but I was slowly taking everything in. You see, I tried to light without light. I used what available light there was to take a photo. A good photo. You use what’s given to you. Right? Anyway, the photographer I worked for always told me to really look at my subject. Figure out what I wanted to do and go from there. Some photographers like to control the situation and light everything. I like to stay as natural as possible.

Ladders. I say ladders because I used to always shoot using a ladder. One time I was in the studio in New York on a very tall ladder, you know, like 18 feet high, I was shooting down at a mattress. I think I told you this story before. I was shooting for one of those cheap men’s magazines where they advertise beer, women and cars. It was kind of like a soft porn magazine. Anyway, I was on top of the ladder laughing. The shot was to be 3 girls in bed with one guy. The guy they got was a real model boy, you know, a Zoolander type. Anyway, I said, you know, use an average everyday guy. Use one of my assistants. So I made one of my assistants crawl into bed with these 3 girls. The guy had a smile on his face from ear to ear. We were all laughing until one of my clients came in from the studio next door. She happened to be shooting next door and came in to say hi. She was very very conservative. Funny, I never worked for them again.

Long table. When I was an assistant, we always had breakfast at this long table in the studio. We would get bacon and egg on a roll, coffee and the morning paper. On one particular morning, we happened to be doing a casting. We were casting for young women for a swimwear shoot. Anyway, I was on the phone and the doorbell rang. A model showed up for the casting. The photographer said, “OK, put your swim suit on in the bathroom.” The model said, “Oh, I didn’t know we had to bring a swimsuit.” Then she said, “No problem.” And she took off all her clothes. I misdialed my phone number. The other assistant spilled his coffee all over himself, and the photographer who was holding the newspaper dropped his newspaper. The model was wearing a pair of form fitting flattering lingerie. I had a feeling this whole thing was planned out. Anyway, she ended up booking the job. The girl went on to marry a very famous actor. Gee, I wonder how she got him to marry her.

That’s all for now. This is B. Nice signing off. Check out my other blog where I talk about the present.

Love, B. Nice

www.briannice.com/mypointofviewproject

Valentine’s Day 2017

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You know, my dad always said, “There’s a big difference between saying something, and doing something.” I agree, but I’d also say, “You should always reach your goal even though you’re limited in what you can do.” And by the way, there are no limits.
 
Every day, just about every day, at 5 o’clock, I draw a heart for my daughter. I’ve been doing this for a few years. I always wanted to see the hearts up and all together in one place. So, on February 14, 2017, we packed all my hearts, all 600 of them, into two suitcases, drove into the city, went to the loft where I had my first brain bleed, put up all 600 hearts, looked at them, took photographs, watched the sunset as all my friends arrived. Then, had a good chat. Then, took down all the hearts, packed them up and went home. We had a classic pop-up art show. We all talked about doing it, and then did it.
 
Going back to the scene of the crime was kind of like giving the finger to my brain bleeds. It was kind of a big FU to my brain bleeds, my brain surgeries, my seizures, etc. It didn’t bother me going back there. It was kind of a challenge, but it felt good.
 
You know, I just wanted to say thank you to my family and all of my good friends. They were really helpful. I couldn’t have done this alone. No way. So, thank you to all my angels. The only regret I have is I wish Sam, my daughter, was here to see this all. So, if you see her, please show this to her. She lives in Texas. I hope you get to check out all the photos. It was pretty cool. Not a bad Valentine’s Day present. Right?
 
This is B. Nice signing off. Love, B. Nice

November 17, 2016

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Hi everybody. Welcome to my blog where I talk about the past. Now, I’m gonna combine Halloween with Veteran’s Day. Sounds bizarre right? Well, after I tell you the following story, you’ll know what I mean.

The following story takes place in Australia, around 1990. I used to go to events all the time, to photograph people at the events. You know, things like air shows, parades, etc. Well, one Veterans Day I went to a parade. I photographed these veterans on a wall. I then got the film back and looked closer to the left, and you know what? There was a creepy kid in the left corner. He wasn’t there when I took the photo — doo dooodooodoo doood oood ooodoooo. Kind of creepy right? So whatever you do, do not show this photo to anyone.

I’m gonna do another story. I may have told you this already, but it’s kind of cool, and since it was election time, I thought this story would be appropriate.

The following story takes place in Washington D.C. around the early 80’s. I apprenticed with this guy in New York. I did stuff like clean floors, toilets, kept the studio clean. You know, stuff like that. I was third assistant. Anyway, I overheard the guy I worked for say, “Hey, let’s bring the new guy to Washington.” Well, I was all excited because it was gonna be my first trip. I had one job. Very simple. I had one claim check and one stand bag to look after. That was my job. Well, it was a good trip going down there. I was all excited. We went to the Capitol Building to photograph the Senators’ wives. It was great. We got VIP treatment. Barbara Bush met us, and we set things up outside of George Bush’s office in the Capitol Building. Well, I was all cocky and full of myself, until I realized, I left my one bag at the airport. The stand bag. My cock behavior went from cockiness to pure TERROR. (And you wonder why I have a brain bleed.) Anyway, I overheard the photographer say, “Tell that kid he’s got 30 minutes to get the bag. Otherwise, he’ll never work for me again.” Well, I did something you could never do nowadays. I RAN through the Capitol Building. Jumped into our station wagon and made incredible time to the airport. I think I broke the sound barrier. I got to the airport, opened up all the car doors, left the keys in the ignition, left the car on, I left the music on really loud and ran inside. When I got to lost baggage, I saw the stand bag behind the counter. Only problem was there were about five people ahead of me. Well, I kind of pushed my way to the front and jumped up and down and said, “That’s my bag, that’s my bag, that’s my bag.” Everyone was staring at this young idiot jumping up and down. Well, I threw my baggage claim ticket at them, picked up the bag from behind the counter and started running through the airport. I got to the car, threw the bag in (oh yeah, there were a lot of police around the car) and yelled, “I’ve got to get to the Capitol Building, Sorry.” I shut all the doors and sped off as fast as I could. I saw in my rear view mirror, I saw the police scratching their heads and looking at me. I think I stunned them. It all happened so fast. Well, I got to the Capitol Building and there was a long line at the X-ray machine. I pushed my way to the front and said something about Barbara Bush and they let me through. I made it back to the photoshoot and the photographer was just finishing his egg sandwich and coffee. He put the NYTimes down and they just started coming out from hair and make-up. I set up the lights on the stand and we started working like nothing happened. Yeah, I dodged a bullet on that one. That night, we went out to dinner with the hair and makeup artist. The guy wore a three piece suit. He was a real strange guy. He also worked on Ronald Reagan’s hair and make up. We got him all liquored up and asked him how Ronald Reagan put on his make up and did his hair. Well the guy, turned on a dime to Mr. Serious. He looked at us and said, “That’s a matter of national security. I cannot discuss this.” The guy freaked me out. I was thinking let’s change the subject before this guy takes a cyanide pill.

The guy worked for always said I was the worst assistant, but I turned out to be a good photographer, he said. That’s always reassuring.

Talk to you guys next week. Love, B. Nice

Here’s the link to my other blog.