I'm a big fan of the 'fate tosses people in your path for a reason' school of destiny. You stub your toe on them. Because they're lying there, in your path, just waiting to become part of everything even though neither of you know it yet. At first you say 'hey you! lying there in my path I stubbed my toe!' next thing you're fleeing a deserted dockyard together pulling grenade pins with your teeth and lobbing them behind you as you run.
The first time I talked to Mr Gibbs we started mid-conversation, embarked mid sentence even. We picked up where we left off even though we'd only just begun. A tall handsome chap dandered into my photo lab, plonked himself on a chair and started in the middle. We always started in the middle. Sometimes we started at the end and had to work our way backwards, but that came later.
'You've done something with your hair' he said. When he joined my ship as a photographer. I carried his suitcase then made him sit on a table to keep his long handsome legs out of the way. At least that's how I remember it.
We'd get horribly horribly terribly very merry and rearrange the furniture in each others heads (©Phillip Gibbs 2006) More importantly he had my back at a time when I needed it more than I ever have. He fixed up my shoe for me on more than one occasion so this post is dedicated to him. He knows why.
Phillip Gibbs runs Tall Order Photography in Lancashire. Book him, you'll be sorry you didn't I swear.
Margaret O'Hare runs Fine Art Imaging in Northern Ireland.