The lifestyle photographer wants to photograph pebbles arranged on a table; the landscape photographer is drawn to pebbles on a beach; I want to snap someone throwing the pebbles. In that spirit I took this photo in France of a kid practising the art of smoking.
The White Poems is a hand-made limited edition book of poems written by Helen Adie, Pia Goddard and me. We’ve been three corners of a writers’ circle for several years and this is our third book. Last night we launched it at a local gallery, Jeannie Avent in East Dulwich. Live music topped and tailed the poetry reading, glasses fizzed and people even bought the book.
The revolution has got to start somewhere and why not with milkmen? Milkmen and their floats, the jingle of bottles, provisions for the nation. Come on, milkmen, let’s get it on.
At the National Portrait Gallery (for excellent Laura Knight exhibition) I ask directions for the loo. ‘Through the shop, downstairs, turn left.’ Behind me a man parrots, ‘Oh, through there, downstairs, turn left.’ ‘Where do you want to go?’ the attendant asks him. ‘I don’t know.’ Pause. ‘Do you sell biscuits?’
Seconds after I took this photo a man rushed out of the café. He said I’d have to give him £100 to take his photo. But I didn’t want to photograph him, only the bike. Besides, I said, I don’t make money out of doing this. I added that I’ve been photographing in Peckham for years because I love Peckham. ‘Oh, you love Peckham, that’s alright then,’ he said. Peace restored, I walked away from the upside-down tangerine bike and the land of Ozzies.