bugger off
This photograph was taken at night, handheld, capturing a young woman in silhouette as she pauses to smoke a cigarette. The image is grainy and black and white, with the empty street behind her softly lit by scattered street lamps. The light catches her blond hair, creating a quiet contrast against the darkness.
She was a stranger. I enjoy brief encounters like this—quick exchanges that ease the presence of the camera and allow me to work up close. Then it becomes a matter of waiting for a moment that holds something subtle: a pause, a gesture, or a shift in atmosphere that gives the image its mood.
Last Cigarette
This photograph was taken at night, handheld, capturing a young woman in silhouette as she pauses to smoke a cigarette. The image is grainy and black and white, with the empty street behind her softly lit by scattered street lamps. The light catches her blond hair, creating a quiet contrast against the darkness.
She was a stranger. I enjoy brief encounters like this—quick exchanges that ease the presence of the camera and allow me to work up close. Then it becomes a matter of waiting for a moment that holds something subtle: a pause, a gesture, or a shift in atmosphere that gives the image its mood.
Under cover
This man immediately caught my attention. He was flamboyant, layered in colour, wearing large bright glasses and a blue face mask. Sitting outside Bar Italia in Soho, he had a striking presence—eccentric, expressive, and impossible to ignore.
He was a stranger, but we spoke briefly and he was happy for me to take his portrait. Encounters like this interest me far more than controlled or polished images. I’m drawn to people whose appearance hints at something deeper, where personality, vulnerability, or complexity begins to surface. What matters most to me is not a glossy portrait, but the possibility of capturing a glimpse of someone’s inner world.
One day. . .
This portrait was taken on Brighton beach, where a trans woman was resting in a hammock. She had a wistful expression that caught my attention—something quiet and reflective that I felt compelled to capture.
We spoke briefly, and the interaction felt warm and open. At times like this, photography becomes less about observation and more about connection. I sensed that being photographed allowed her to feel seen rather than judged, acknowledged rather than overlooked. Moments of recognition like this are often what draw me to portraiture.
The Way of the Shaman
This whimsical self-portrait shows me holding a floor-standing lamp, with its large shade completely covering my head. In my hands is a book titled The Way of the Shaman, adding a quiet clue to the spirit of the image.
The photograph plays with humour and disguise while hinting at my interest in spirituality and inner exploration. By obscuring my face, the portrait becomes less about identity and more about suggestion—a playful gesture that balances curiosity, symbolism, and a light touch of the absurd.
blue bella
One of many portraits of my daughter. Photographing her has become an ongoing act of curiosity and care—an informal catalogue of our life together as she grows and changes.
In this image, her quirky brilliance and energy come through strongly. The scene is filled with shades of blue—her clothing, the background, and the light—all quietly echoing the colour of her eyes. Framed by her hands, her gaze feels almost owl-like: alert, playful, and full of life.
soho cowboy
This portrait was taken in Soho. At first glance the man projected confidence and bravado, his clothing bold and expressive, almost theatrical in its presence.
But looking more closely, something else emerged. In his eyes there was a depth of sadness that felt difficult to ignore. The outward performance seemed to sit alongside a quieter inner reality—one shaped by hardship, mental health struggles, and the complexities of life. Moments like this interest me in portraiture, where the surface presentation and the inner emotional world briefly reveal themselves at the same time.
Leslie
This portrait shows a trans boy who is a dear friend of mine, captured in a rare moment when his defences were down. His eyes appear soft and slightly dreamy, revealing a vulnerability that contrasts with the protective layers of his appearance.
His clothing and accessories act almost like armour—signals to the world that both express identity and guard against judgement. In a society where difference can attract scrutiny or hostility, these outward choices can become a way of controlling how connection happens, or even avoiding it altogether. Moments like this, where that armour briefly softens, are deeply moving to me as a photographer.
nothing to see here
This portrait is of a friend who has faced multiple life traumas yet continues to meet life with a striking, unflinching strength. There is a resilience in her presence that feels both hard-won and quietly powerful.
She often plays with dressing up and modifying her appearance. Part of it feels like play, part like performance, but it is also a clear expression of her refusal to mould herself to life’s expected norms. Through clothing, gesture, and attitude, she shapes her own narrative—turning appearance into a form of resistance as well as self-expression.