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Instagram can be a curious thing.  I’ve found it can be alienating as much as it can connect, harsh and unwelcoming as much as warm and embracing. I’m still not very adept with it, still cannot get my head around it and I always feel I’m a latecomer – it took me a year just to realise what hashtags were used for, another 6 months to somewhat grasp communities of Instagram, and yet another few months to register that if somebody who is not on your contact list sends you a private message, the little orange icon will not show up. (I have never changed the settings either). Well, incidentally I pressed the inbox icon for no reason and I’m glad I did – there was a message from someone. He called himself Jazz Devil. “Hello my name’s Barry I’m a music guy and I wear hats” he said “I like your work – would you shoot me in your street/portrait style”?

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Well I have to say his name rang a bell –  it really did – I just could not put my finger on where I heard about him – but hey ho – hail almighty Google and Wikipedia. I must admit, since my days now mostly consist of changing nappies, wiping noses, school runs, photographing my kids (and an occasional creative selfie) – I was rather excited –  not everyday you get to meet a celebrity (although I prefer the word artist) of such calibre.  Let me briefly tell you who Barry Adamson is – a prominent English musician  – active in the music and movie industry since 1977 –  working with artists like  Buzzcocks, Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds, just to name but a few. Contributing to many soundtracks, among which are The Lost Highway, Natural Born Killers and The Beach.

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And so we met – in a coffee shop in Brick Lane – him looking cool and dapper and me with my old camera and admittedly quite shaky hands, after all  – the guy has closely worked with David Lynch – who is my all time favourite movie director.

I would love to say that we spent the whole day shooting, trying different locations, moods etc, but the whole thing merely took maybe less than an hour:  after exchanging some niceties, a half drunk cup of decaf coffee (I was shaky enough without a boost of caffeine) and discovering mutual love/hate for some photographers – I just started shooting him  – he laughed and said: oh you’re quick… straight to work, let me put my sunglasses on – he wouldn’t be photographed without them – his trademark.

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It was a very dull and overcast day, and being inside a dark cafe did not help either, since there was no flash involved. In my frenzy, and on autopilot, I suddenly had a sort of tiny Eureka moment – I jumped outside in mid sentence uttering “stay here!” oh, rather rude I know – I really really have bad people skills (leaving Mr. Adamson rather perplexed) and started shooting him from the outside in window reflections. He realised what was going on and started posing. Good. He was a lovely man and a fine gentleman  -if he thought I was a tiny bit weird and scatty, he absolutely didn’t show it.

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You know how it goes, we’ve all been there – you take a hundred photos and you come home and you realise that only maybe 3 (if you’re lucky) out of a hundred are any good. Luckily Mr. Adamson was pleased with a handful of shots, of which a few of them were “killer” in his own words.  Ah, such a relief I tell you! What a lovely albeit short experience, these things do boost your confidence in many ways.

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So there –  that was that –  and now – back to the nappy changing duties. Thank you for reading…

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All images © Jonė Reed

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