There's always more, never less.  Old photos don't
  fade away.  They outlive their time like wayward
  children.  This book is a way of disciplining some of
  the prodigals.

  Many years ago I noted in my dairy:
  "I am not in the business of documenting or revealing
  personalities.  I am in the business of freezing
  shadows and bottling auras."  I still like the sound of
  that.

  I cannot say what triggered it: the quiet joy in the
  study and contemplation of the faces of others.
  It developed while I was a student at Cambridge.
  The purchase of a friend's battered black Pentax for
  £45 in my final term legitimised my proclivities.
  I paid the camera off in 3 installments.

  London in the late 60s and early 70s was a hotbed of
  creative interchange.  The prevalent hippie
  philosophy united all manner of artists, musicians,
  film makers, models, actors, writers, photographers
  etc., into a unique and intensely fertile community.
  My timing was excellent.  Curiosity and circumstance
  drew me to the flame of rock 'n roll.