I often try to photograph things about a person that are not visible.

All good work has magic in it, and addresses the mind in a subtle way.

If I indulge myself and surrender to memory, I can still feel the knot of excitement that gripped me as I turned the corner into Rue Mimosas, looking for the house of Rene Magritte. It was August, 1965. I was 33 years old and about to meet the man whose profound and witty surrealist paintings had contradicted my assumptions about photography.

Photography deals exquisitely with appearances, but nothing is what it appears to be.

Photographers tend not to photograph what they can’t see, which is the very reason one should try to attempt it. Otherwise we’re going to go on forever just photographing more faces and more rooms and more places. Photography has to transcend description. It has to go beyond description to bring insight into the subject, or reveal the subject, not as it looks, but how does it feel?

Most photographs, to me, are description, but they lack insight.

Taking the photograph is the easiest part for me