homeless in London

Homeless in London ©timothyfoster

Homeless in London ©timothyfoster

I think you see homeless more often in central London when your feeling a little low. Your eyes change in this emotive state and whereas you would once spend most of the day avoiding eye contact, your eyes reach out when you feel like shit, and those in the shit reach back. I rarely give money to the homeless as I have friends who work for homeless charities and it seems to carry as an excuse to ignore, and thats how you become living in london. Filtering out things in life like in a photograph: you see what your tuned into at the time. People always ask, "how do you find these people", and I say, if you think about the colour brown enough, eventually you will see the colour everywhere even though it went out of fashion in the 1970s.

I'm really hesitant of photographing the homeless but when I see them sleeping I loose my confrontation with guilt and let myself see their vulnerability.

Homeless in London ©timothyfoster

I remember taking the first picture and there were all these needles lying near by, and thought if I move one or two needles into shot it will look better. Crazy shit. I also remember when I once went to Perpignan photojournalism festival and Tom Stoddard said to me, "What point of photojournalism isn't fake"? But I still didn't euthanize the picture and I think the picture still said a lot about the mans condition. In fact I think the most beautiful thing in this image is that someone had placed a book and a banana in arms reach for when he came out of his state.

I always wondered what he must have felt like waking up and seeing that someone from the millions like myself that continually walk by, had actually given a damn and put those simple objects next to him. Maybe when he woke it gave him hope, maybe it made him more upset, but it was worth a try who ever put it there and it was more than I'd done.

Modeling i sometimes wish i'd never done

email I received this morning...

so i was sitting in a restaurant in cuba street, wellington new zealand, enjoying a wee cuppa and a bite, and I look up and see your face with a gobful of spaghetti looming down from a poster. Random but nice to see you so far from home!

hope you're well.

L x

email from america

Hey Timmy, nice hearing you today.. yesterday -doh!

Hired a madass car today, 1980's Ford Bronco pickup, drinks more fuel than a tank. Solid as a rock. Brilliant stuff. Rent A Wreck.

Great out here, just for the weather it's worth the lot. Was diggin' up a garden today to lay some slabs for a patio, walking around all day in flip flops and sitting around outside all the time. Computers suck.

Californians talk to you in the street and say hi sometimes, they chat to you in shops or in the street, it's scary. What happened to the world?!..

Kathryn's aunt and her mates are totally punk rock. They're in their 50's and sit around all day chatting and smoking weed out of pipes.

We're total wimps..

They know everything about the land they live in, plants, mountains, history, politics.. everything, these are true californians, they were the baby boomers straight out of the sixties that didn't turn into Starbucks and fuck the world times over. Some of them live on indian reservations and have husband's called 'Wolf' and go hiking up in the high Sierra mountains just for fun.

The rest of LA might be shite, glitz, movie industry, mexicans practically run the whole city for less than minimum wage, but I tells ya, this place is still a knock out. The light in this place is something else, I can see why people came here to make films in the old days..

Anyways gotta get sum gaaaadam shut eye boy. Speak again soon, and I'll send you some stills from the new camera, the files are so godam big gotta get a new drive to store it all..

R.xx