While I started taking photographs in 1958 in Austin, Texas, I did not become a magazine photographer until the late 70s when with my wife and two daughters we moved to Vancouver, British Columbia.

I was exposed to the influence and guidance of very good art directors who pushed me to excel and to never just make the motion of taking photographs.

Quickly I learned that constraints were paramount to creativity. I photographed many politicians, actors, directors and rock stars who would give me five minutes to shoot. I found quickly that when I was given lots of time I was baffled as to what to do after those five minutes had passed.

The methodology then became going into a room or situation and quickly decided what could not be done and only what could.

In the last five years leading to this pandemic 2020 journalism in both magazines and newspapers has faded and because I am 77 I can point out that I am obsolete, redundant, retired and inconsequential.

This does not mean that I have stored my cameras. Quite on the contrary I used them as much as I can and my image creativity has proceeded also with my scans of our garden plants.

When possible I take portraits of my two granddaughters. They are not snapshots. I use my intimate little studio in our Kitsilano (a Vancouver neighbourhood) duplex.

But at this advanced age I have not given up on my obsessive desire to photograph the undraped female and to push the boundaries of what is a cerebral eroticism.

Just a couple of weeks ago I agreed to meet up with Emily (she lives in Victoria) in the parking lot of the local, Vancouver Queen Elizabeth Park. The parking lot that is further away from the central garden is quite private. She showed up and found my light silver/blue Chevrolet Cruze. After I thoroughly disinfected its interior she got in and closed all doors and windows. I shot with my Fuji X-E3.

My theory that limits are good for creativity, I believe are evident.

For the rest of the photographs look here.