MOMENTS WITH DAVID BLAINE

David’s lingering gaze greeted the team as he raised his new palm tattoo. It was another lingering eye. Before long all present were puzzled by this enigmatic man. He clearly enjoyed being a bit odd.

We connected through danger. Rather than ground-level portraits, he wanted to hang from something, anything. Soon he was perched in the studio rafters as I teetered on the top step of a twelve-foot step-ladder. To the Sunday Times team, injury lawsuit worries were clouding their sense of aesthetics.

They breathed relief when we descended, and moaned again when David and I wanted shots outside on the studio roof. As the only ones not wearing heels, the two of us climbed through the skylight, like Spiderman and his accomplice, er… Photo-man.

After we got this shot, he called my bluff and I refused to photograph him fingertip-dangling from the gutter. The words ‘it’s a wrap’ are a good way to avoid potential death.