OK. So I have two favourite types of lens. I like a lens to either distance me or force me into the proximity of my subject. I don't think there's anything strange in finding the latter the more taxing occupation. London teaches us it's often easier to not interact at all than interact and risk a stabbing, a gay-up, or, worst: the unutterably, impossibly, shit-on-the-flawingly banal. And so there's a lot of enjoyment in spying down from the concrete walkways above, and capturing (literally stealing!) a moment from unknowing, unaware models. And what a set! I couldn't do this in my studio. Though the lighting would be better.
It might not be better than this, however: the kebab shop on the corner of Primrose Street and Bishopsgate, and its owner. When I asked them if I could take their photo, the guy in the background said: 'Oh no... I did this before... And the next thing I knew, I was in a sex magazine. It's disgusting. I'm not doing that again...' But the manager was happier with the prospect, and approved of this shot, which is reassuring. The burger I had was delicious, if a little over-spiced.
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