On the side of St. Bartholomew’s Church in Brighton, the sun shines in little pools of diffusely reflected light. The building opposite the church is adorned with perfectly angled windows that act like lenses to cast shards of brilliant white light that dapple the graffiti festooned wall in a chiaroscuro dance of light and dark. It’s one of those places that as a photographer you make a mental note of and head back to from time to time to see who you can find and persuade to stand for a moment in those shards.

Martin is pushing a trolley in front of him, his hands clasped around the bar highlight the wonderful details of the rings on his fingers and the white hair ponytail cements my interest in his character. Martin was in the merchant navy, managing crews and logistics for deep sea freight operations. He has been all over the world but it turns out he grew up two roads over from where my mother spent her childhood.

I’ve known Ian for a few years now. He is a super talented artist, illustrator and bike rider. I first photographed him randomly back in 2016 on a Sunday morning as he was riding out for breakfast after chasing a deadline for The Observer, his ink stained hands testimony to his trade and effort. Since then I’ve bumped into Ian at least every other time I’ve been in Brighton to shoot and he’s become something of a friend.

‘Professor Scolz’ mimed to me as he walked past, mimicking the pose Ian had just adopted on his bike a moment before. He was interested to see the results and that led to a conversation about what I was doing and why. He immediately understood the value of the human connections.