The kind of photography I do begins as a moment of theft. Finding the scene, finding your angle, and stealing the moment for yourself. Some photographers are creators. They build a scene, a still life, or arrange their models and angle their lights and create an image from nothing. I’m not one of those photographers. I’m a thief. I case the scenes around me, plan my approach, take my shot, and escape back into the crowd. But I’m not an undiscerning thief. And over the years I

We tend to see photos in isolation. By that I don’t mean we only see one photo at a time - between facebook, flickr, and instagram we’ve become comfortable consuming many photos at once – but that we see only one photo from a scene. We see the image the photographer has chosen as the best representative of a moment or depiction of a scene. The shot that conveys or captures exactly that which the photographer wants to show us. But behind every curated and published moment are

“WHAT!!! You can’t do that!” “Sure I can. It’s my photo.” “But you can’t just make stuff up.” I had just confessed to Denny that a recent photo I'd posted had undergone a tad more work in Photoshop than most of my images do. Although the conversation had a jocular air to it, there was clearly disappointment in his tone. The image in question had received a lot of attention on social media. On the St Andrews tourism page the photo had over a thousand ‘likes’ over a hundred ‘sh

I've been wondering for a while whether to start keeping a bit of a blog here. Updating the site with new photos is great, but part of what makes photography so fun for me is the stories that go with the images. My thinking here is that every now and then I'll write up the story about a new image, or if it's been a while one of my older ones. A bit on what I like about the shot, how it came about, and maybe a little on the technical considerations that go on behind the scen