I'm a terrible punster. And I love to rhyme. I just can't help myself.

I already know what things look like - I don't want description. People believe in appearances, and I don't believe in appearances at all.

I'm very hard on the art world just being a big business.

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.

Photography does deal with 'truth' or a kind of superficial reality better than any of the other arts, but it never questions the nature of reality - it simply reproduces reality. And what good is that when the things of real value in life are invisible?

I never photograph sunsets and I never photograph moonrises. I'm not interested in what things look like.