It was as simple as ‘get to the top of Finland and turn left’.  At least that is…

Iceland. Never has the essence of a country so closely resembled the way in which I see the…

There are times when writing about memories from as far back as my eighteenth year feels wrong. How…

The Rooftop Collective exhibition edition VI Tempus Fugit. So they say. Here we are again, another Rooftop Collective…

India 20-03-11: We crossed a bridge. It was a railway bridge, with a small walkway to the side…

Deep in the heart of the Carpathians, Kate and I parked our van. We were in a field…

Arrival in India 13-03-11: An airport is an airport is an airport. And Delhi airport is an airport.…

It was as simple as ‘get to the top of Finland and turn left’.  At least that is…

Written by Barbara in April 1995: When the Allied invasion became a certainty and the only question was…

Written by Barbara in April 1995: I worked as a short hand typist at the British Embassy in…

The baton of inspiration is a wonderful thing. It passes from artist to artist, musician to musician, forming…

Koudelka is possibly the single greatest influence on me as a photographer. I was shown his work by…