Ghostwriter?

Transient

I was waiting at London's Tate Modern gallery for John Higgins, an author with whom I've worked a couple of times now.  Curiously, the lights in the main turbine hall were turned off and the only illumination was from the glass doors at the top of the ramp.

I was anticipating the picture that would emerge as he stepped through doors but then, in the shadowy gloom, he walked straight past me. 

I shouted and he turned; I continued pressing the shutter button to catch him smile 'hello' but, when we looked at the images later, this was the one he preferred.

We are working with other Ashridge folk to put together a new book about the revolutionary ADOC programme. But John is no ghost writer - his voice will, I hope, be loud and clear as he conversationally describes the work that each of us undertake.

And in my case, at least, that is a very significant voice. It was John who, nearly 10 years ago, first asked me to describe a vision for my work laid out in images spread on the floor of the turbine hall.

The rest, as they say, is history.