127. Portraits.

Comrades, since I’m all about being vulnerable these days, I want to share a recent experience on the subject.

There is a particular kind of vulnerability reserved for photographers.

Not the one that comes from showing your work or the one that comes from failure. Not even the vulnerability of making something deeply personal and releasing it into the world, though it may be related.

I’m talking about the vulnerability of being photographed; of standing in front of a camera while someone else decides who you are.

That’s exactly what happened to me not long ago:

I’ve needed new portraits for my branding for quite some time, so I spent months looking at the work of different photographers. I found technical skills, I found trends, I found beautiful images; Yet none of it truly spoke to me, so I left the idea alone for a while.

Then I met a photographer whose approach to the craft immediately impressed me. Not because of the technical side of photography, though he certainly has that covered, but because of his emotional understanding of his craft. The genuine curiosity he has for people. The way his eye listens and connects his sense of light and aesthetic with the emotional element in his subjects.

The artist in question is my good friend Eydrian (Adrian Tache).

For those of us who have built a life around observing others, standing in front of the lens feels almost unnatural. I knew I wanted this to be a creative collaboration, not simply a photoshoot. I wanted someone capable of seeing beyond the surface, beyond the intensity of my permanently overclocked ADHD brain, and finding the quieter moments in between. The moments when I’m not performing, hiding, or constructing a version of myself for the world. Eydryan understood that immediately.

On a cold Saturday morning in February, we wandered around Clerkenwell, my favourite corner of London. I had an idea of locations and backgrounds. For example, there’s this wall in St Bart’s hospital that is scarred and hasn’t been fixed… like me. There are these tunnels, filled with darkness but with some skylights aligned to let just enough light in… like my soul. Then being surrounded by all this architecture, this is the district where most design and architect studios are, the air is filled with creativity. I didn’t mention any of this to Eydryan but I think he got the message.

The shoot was long, but the energy never dipped. We laughed, traded stories, shared terrible jokes, and spoke about life. It felt less like a photoshoot and more like two friends catching up after being apart for too long. He has this rare ability to make people feel comfortable instantly, and that comfort creates the space for honesty.

Looking at the photographs now, I’m genuinely happy with them. They describe so many elements of me, my craft and my energy.

I’m just an average bloke with a face better suited to be behind the lens, so apologies, Eydrian, that you had to work with this instead of a monument of a model. But if these photographs taught me anything, it’s that being seen by someone who genuinely cares is a gift.

Thank you, my friend.

I’ll be using these images for years to come, this is me.