I have a deep respect and love for these tiny humans, and I hope to convey in my images a measure of the beauty that exists in all children.
I photograph from the heart. I adore little babies and I think that shows. My images are really very positive, very simple, and from the heart. Babies speak a universal language.
I have a deep love and respect for children and I cannot imagine photographic life without them playing a major part. I hope that through my work as a photographer, I have been able to pass on my appreciation of their beauty and charm.
Children are very precious, very special, they are our future. They deserve our nurturing.
Children remind us of the wonder of the world, and so does a scrape with death… it’s like moving from 2D to 3D.
I realised that, unless I was to become a politician or a researcher, my only real contribution could be to build a publishing enterprise based on sound commercial principles, that would ignite in others a passion for the natural world. I chose to target children of all ages. I soon found I was able to create, produce and sell products that celebrated nature and inspired a personal connection with its beauty and fragility. I knew that my young audience, having made a connection, would grow up believing in the magic of nature. When environmental issues arose, these children, now adults, would lend their voices to make the collective environmental consciousness stronger. This is my drive and has been my reason for being for the last half a century.
It’s important to accept children for who they are.
To leave behind a minutely engraved and intricately tinted plan, to be compelled by adult practicality to leave it behind unfingered, seems one of the disadvantages of childhood. How many shadows of broken desires must haunt and flicker among the shadows haunting and flickering in streets and lanes and cul-de-sacs children glimpsed, and yearned to walk to the end of, and never did. To be offhandedly presented with another, a newer, differently embellished plan is one of the advantages.
While still sixteen I am put in charge of a class of forty children who are two, three or four years younger than I. I fall in love with them. They are my possession, my mob whose forty minds, under my flashy and domineering control, are to become one, a mind unsullied by errors, unmarked by blots, contaminated by misplaced originalities outside the curriculum, and as full of facts as a pomegranate seed.
There was something quite captivating about the honesty, the happiness of kids. Most have an openness and an acceptance which we lose.