I don’t do a lot of self-portraits; it’s not something I’ve been comfortable with. I always knew I wouldn’t end up on the cover of GQ, and as I hit middle age, gravity and my appetite have taken their toll. Nevertheless, having followed a couple of photographers and their approach to self-portraits (especially the amazing, intense work of April Lea), I’ve been so impressed with the open and honest nature of their work that I feel compelled  to revisit self-portraiture. It will be a difficult, self-confrontational process to force myself over to the other side of the lens, and deal with the insecurities, and the echos of schoolyard taunts of decades past.

It starts now.