The first time she talked to me, my heart skipped a beat. i certainly had not expected her to do so. Lord only knew that I was working up my courage to talk with her before she went back on stage, so that I could ask her about shooting her performance. i quickly nodded my head. "Sure, chips and a burger sound fine. I appreciate your help." I offered my hand. "I'm Peter MacDonald, photographer. Pleased to meet you miss." I was used to introducing myself by my profession, since so much of my work was photographing locals where ever I found myself. I did not just capture the lands, but the people that lived in them.

Karen was a short, round woman with soft brown hair and big brown eyes. She looked tired and stressed, but smiled at us readily enough. "Sure mister. Alice, you want your usual?"

I forget now how she replied, because I was, I am afraid, staring at her openly. Usually i am more polite than that, but not in this instance. "I caught the tail end of your last set. I am doing a book on Newfoundland. How would you feel about having me take pictures of your second set? You could have full approval over the photographs used, of course." I normally would have said photograph, but something told me that more than one of my photographs of her would end up in any book I put out.