Mr Bradford

The 80’s, Gravesend on the River Thames - A little boy wanders out of the rain and into his own head. There, he meets a Commodore Amiga and the two become fast friends because Photon Paint 2.0 doesn’t stain your fingers like felt-tipped markers. He doesn’t know he wants to be a graphic designer yet but he knows he’s an artist. And when you know, you just know.

The 90’s, Havering College - A young man meets George Grosz, Toulouse Lautrec, Ralph Steadman. He learns, among other things, new words for Artist; like Illustrator, for instance. And Designer. He’s not sure that this print job is his calling but he loves the smell of ink, how paper feels between his fingers. And typeface is truly lovely if you look at it long enough.

The Millennium, London - A man wanders the Old Smoke, CV still warm from the Xerox. Dynamo Communications needs a designer and that CV needs bullet points; like Budweiser. Sainsbury’s. Coca-Cola. There’s a woman, too. A Canadian. He loves her more than minimalism and that’s saying something. They marry in Victoria and move to Vancouver – them and the cats. Because you just never know.

  1. He runs his own creative agency: The New Gentlemen’s Club, which makes sense because after all, he is a gentleman. And it is new.

But that was then and this is now and creativity, like that old river, finds its own course. He’s taking photographs. On film. On the Nikon F100, Pentax K1000, Minolta SrT200 and Nikisha N9000 3D. He captures beauty. Emotion. Atmosphere.

Because life’s worth capturing.

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