A picture taken during Christmas of either 1979 or 1980 in Shepherd’s Bush. A friend was dancing. I had probably been dancing too, then sat down and took this photo; including my legs in the picture because sometimes – not often, but sometimes – they are what you see. With the majority of my pictures I am invisible or I am visible only because I set the camera on a tripod or photographed my reflection in a mirror.
This was taken from the window of the classroom where one evening a week I was learning how to print photographs in the darkroom. I loved this class except for the fact it always meant I had a long journey home on the bus alone, fairly late at night. The city at night is beautiful but not necessarily safe. I overcame my fears because at that point in my life I was desperate to learn and change.
Dinner at a friend’s. It seems as if there will be plenty of light; there is an overhead lamp that sends a pool of light onto the table and candles elsewhere. There is a sense of this moment slipping away, this group of friends will not be together again for a long time – as it happens they will never be together again. Some will lose touch, one will die tragically young. I take out my camera, take a few shots, but most are too dark – or too dark to make sense to anyone except me.