Born in Nelspruit in the 80's - walking to school and back again barefoot in the red African dust - watching movies was a distant and foreign pass-time.
Yes, we had TV's back then and I knew who He-man was, but there was no film culture as such. If someone made a pop-culture movie-reference I would just stare blankly at them, silently judging them for the crutch they were leaning on.
Gravity-defying comic book heroes, dressed in primary-coloured tights, held little appeal to me. Truth is what I loved, even - and especially - when those truths were dark.
I moved to Scotland in 2004 after a brush with Death on a dark hilltop duting a car-jacking. I became a photographer, a husband, a dad and then a 40-year-old.
As I was coughing up some Covid one day I realised that I still had so much untold truth to tell, and that time for telling it was rapidly coming to a dead end.
And so here I am, telling it. As raw and immediate and delicious as the red sands of Africa burning into the soles of my feet.