One of my favourite photographers (his photographs are amongst my favourites; I don’t really know the man) is Elliott Erwitt. He’s another in a long line of story-tellers with a small camera who’s work never fails to wake me up to the fact that now would be a good time to be recording your life: afterwards of course, one assumes, could prove difficult.
I met Elliott about 10 years ago in London. I just saw him and recognised him. I said “Hello Elliott, could I take your picture”? He just shrugged his shoulders and said, “Sure, why not”. He stood by a wall and turned away from me. I photographed his back for a while and at some point he turned round. I laughed and said thankyou, shook his hand and off he went.
His work is truly fine. My portrait of him is nothing much to write home about but I treasure that day.