There I am on a grey December afternoon making my way along Oxford Street looking out for something or someone to catch my eye, something interesting in the sea of blandness.  I’m standing out like a blackhead on a film stars nose with my enormous, indiscreet SLR and even bigger zoom lens that’s fully extended because that’s the way the canon 24-70 works, with the lens sticking fully out at the wide setting.  I’ve got to be honest Bruce, I’ll call him by just his first name now that I know him, me and Bruce, you know how it is, my mate Brucie and all that, well anyway Bruce with his eagle eye has spotted me before I saw him and he sort of made eyes as if to say ‘I’ve spotted you with your great big stoopid camera, why aint ya got a cool little  Leica like me ya sap’

Anyway I’ve grinned like a fool and introduced myself to one of the Holy Gods of Street Photography, prostrating myself at his feet, well shaking his hand at least as  I gushed and fawned about how great he was and how he had been an influence on my own  street photography. Bruce just smiled like he’d heard it all a million times before.

I did think of asking  if I could follow him for a while just to see how he worked but it seemed a bit of a silly idea, like he’d think I was some wierdo nutjob.

Before I went he gave me just one bit of advice he told me to not be enamoured of his work or that of any other photographer and to develop my own style.

Style ? He must have thought I was a real photographer and not just someone who walks around taking random snaps, which is all I ever do.