this is a photogragh of the person who is writing these words. i'm older than this now- 29 years old in fact. this was taken for some official identificatory purpose about five years ago. at the current time this is one of the very few "recent" photographs of me which is available to anyone.

very few images of me from the previous decade exist. i abandoned photography altogether as a part of my life. in fact i didn't take a single photograph of anyone or anything between 2001 and 2008. i broke that tendency with a photograph of a street in Montmartre, Paris. but since then i've lapsed back into a life without image-making and have barely taken another photograph in the last three years.

                                                               (Montmartre, Paris)

i regret this state of affairs. i wish now that i possessed some kind of photographic record of those vast swathes of time and experience. there is undoubtedly a certain form of solace to be found in the fact that some species of record has been kept of your existence, preserving your life for the sake of the filing cabinets at least.

in fact being caught within the net of photography is potentially one way to become immortal, although photographs are not very adept at breathing or bleeding.

originally i stopped taking photographs because i was wary of the manner in which people so frequently record without thinking, pointing their apparatus at any available surface without ever stopping, even for a moment, to consider what sort of behaviour they are engaged in, and whether it is or is not a worthwhile pursuit.

i now think of my attitude as a somewhat foolish one even if reasonably well-intentioned. the notion that i would exist, within the bounds of Western Civilisation, above and beyond photography, strikes me now as a little lofty and arrogant. photographs are important- that's why most family households in this culture fill extensive collections of albums and hoard them in their living rooms.

initially i embarked upon this as a temporary experiment. i was never sure how long it was going to last for, but wished to discover quite how it would feel to rid myself entirely of images. i was interested in observing the consquences upon me. but i was to discover that you cannot really be a voyeur with regard to your own existence. the sort of detachment which genuine voyeurism requires is not possible when the gaze is turned upon oneself.

                     (Montmartre in "Bob le Flambeur" directed by Jean-Pierre Melville, 1956)

the paradox here is that i have long been fascinated and obsessed with the domain of images, particularly those of the moving variety. in my late teens and early twenties i watched thousands of films in a great frenzy of viewing. i understood exactly what Susan Sontag was saying in her 1996 essay "The Decay of Cinema":

"Each art breeds its fanatics. The love that cinema inspired, however, was special. It was born of the conviction that cinema was an art unlike any other: quintessentially modern; distinctively accessible; poetic and mysterious and erotic and moral -- all at the same time. Cinema had apostles. (It was like religion.) Cinema was a crusade. For cinephiles, the movies encapsulated everything. Cinema was both the book of art and the book of life."

unfortunately my own devotion ultimately led me into a place of great isolation- perhaps as a direct consequence of the decay of cinema culture which Sontag was lamenting. it took me some years to realise that the experience of watching a film alters greatly depending on the number of people watching in unison. almost every film i watched for years was seen in solitude. and my choice to become an absentee from the realm of still photography was really a part of the outsider stance which i adopted as a consequence of my attitude towards cinema.