Select Page

Don’t kill yourself to take a photographDon’t kill yourself to take a photograph

Don’t kill yourself to take a photograph

One Saturday in mid-October 2015, I decided to take a walk over to my preferred film lab and put some freshly developed black and white negatives in for scanning.

My better half had arranged to spend some time with her family that afternoon, so I planned to make the most of it and meander over whilst messing around with a new-ish lens – a lovely Voigtlander 21/4.

I’d loaded some Ilford SFX 200 the day before and although I still had half a roll left to burn, the light was flat and uninteresting, so not much of a dent was made and my meander quickly turned into a normal (quick-ish) walk.

Close to the lab is an intersection, which I needed to cross. No big deal, I’m a grown man and had crossed it hundreds of times before to get to the mouthwatering Japanese Izakayas (and film lab), on the other side.

I approached the intersection, noted the 20+ seconds left on the green pedestrian light and upped my pace. I got halfway across the road before I was overcome with what I can only describe as a “feeling” of something behind me and to my right.

I looked over my shoulder and bearing down on me was a large, bright yellow cab.

There was no time to react, so I grudgingly accepted my fate and began to swear. Within a split second the car had hit my calves, thighs and back. I flew a bit and landed a few yards away, more in shock than anything else.

What was I worried about in those first few fractions of a second after landing on the tarmac? My camera. It hadn’t been knocked and was being held aloft in my hand but I was pissed.

I spun around to face the car – which had now come to a halt in the middle of the road. I tried to stand but immediately dropped back to the floor like a sack of potatoes…my calves hurt, really hurt.

Adrenaline is a wonderful thing and on my second attempt, I managed to get to my feet and hobble over to the driver whilst screaming the longest and loudest string of obscenities I’ve ever mustered. Forget about grandma, I would have made myself blush had I been a bystander. Speaking of which, I yelled out at a few to call the emergency services and somehow managed to continuously shout at, berate or otherwise demean the driver until they arrived a few minutes later.

I wasn’t a bit concerned about the state of my body. Sure, my back hurt and my calves felt as if I’d just run a marathon or three but I was more worried about the camera and what kind of damage had been caused. I could walk, so it couldn’t be too bad, right?

To cut a much longer story short, aside from discovering that that I can be quite funny under the influence of adrenaline *1, I also learned the following things a week or so later:

One: Leica are amazing. I took my camera to my local store and asked them to give it a once over, fully expecting that it would have to be sent to Germany. I had it back in my hands just 24 short hours later. It came with not only a clean bill of health but also a report detailing the results of the numerous and exhaustive checks they’d performed for me (it’s 1/6th of a stop under at 1/1000 sec). *2

Two: I had fractured three vertebrae and would need to wear a brace for the next three months.

Three: I’d somehow managed to take a rather interesting picture mid-flight. I guess that’s what I got for bemoaning the flat, uninteresting light.

Here it is:


Moment of impact - Ilford SFX 200 / EI800 / #25 red filter / 2-stop push process

Moment of impact
Ilford SFX 200 / EI800 / #25 red filter / 2-stop push process


I generally dislike airing musings like this in public. I think they’re uninteresting to most and rather self-centered. I’ve decided to post this rare exception for two reasons.

The first is that I didn’t expect to get anywhere near that level of attention or detail from Leica without questioning anything other than the camera in my hand. I handed it over and they did the rest in an unfailingly professional and expedient manner. In fact, one of their engineers took the time to go over their report with my when I returned to collect it. That kind of service can’t be faulted. Thank you.

The second is a little more fuzzy, so please bear with me while I muddle my way to clarity. As photographers, I like to think that we are more mindful of our surroundings than most. We’re always looking ahead for that next shot, that interesting scene, that juxtaposition, or just something a little different to take us out of our comfort zone.

Sometimes, it’s the stuff behind us that’s responsible for giving us the moments (photography-related, or not), that we remember the most.

Whatever you do, or however you look at the world, please take my advice: do what you want but don’t kill yourself to take a photograph.

Thanks for listening.



*1 – “What do you mean you didn’t see me?! I’m crossing the road wearing a white shirt and dark trousers…did you think I was a f**king ZEBRA CROSSING?!”


About The Author


Self confessed film-freak and film photography mad-obsessive and OVERLORD at I push, pull, shoot, boil and burn film everyday, and I want to share what I learn.


Comments are welcomed and encouraged on EMULSIVE but there are some instances where comments will deleted, and authors of those comments banned. They are as follows:

  • Comments deemed to be spam or solely promotional in nature will be deleted. Including a link to relevant content is permitted, but comments should be relevant to the topic at hand.
  • Comments including profanity, containing language or concepts that could be deemed offensive will be deleted. Note this may include abusive, threatening, pornographic, offensive, misleading or libelous language.
  • Comments that attack an individual directly will be deleted, as will comments that harass other contributing authors. In short, please be respectful toward others.



  1. I love living in Taiwan, but the traffic… uff it gives me goosebumps every time I ride my scooter. I hope you are better now!

  2. EM, can’t blame this one on a cat…
    Love the image!

  3. Looks like a worm hole!
    (And I’m glad you’re OK.)

  4. Despite the circumstances involved in getting this shot. It is a very good image

  5. Did you take a photo of the cab?

  6. yowsa! I worked with a photographer that got hit by an airplane. In the airplanes defence, the photographer was 6’4″

  7. ouch, good pic though! I once handed of a taxi rugby style….drunk…. Internal scaffolding required for hand.

  8. reminded me of one of the lessons I learned as a student journalist: don’t get killed making your news report

  9. did you (1) take the photo deliberately (2) pick decisive moment (3) compose (4) set up camera for long exposure?

  10. How’s your back? Best wishes from The Netherlands.

  11. I have also been hit by a car while shooting film! #believeinfilm

  12. After all, your survivors might know what to do with the film 😉

  13. Wow! Too close for comfort. But, what a pic. Satisfying composition and very effective – best I’ve seen – use of radial motion blur :p

    Hope everything’s mending properly.

  14. So there’s that photo! I am glad you came out largely intact. Cameras can be replaced easily. Body replacements take longer and usually the memory is reset too.

    • “THAT” photo! It’s been an interesting few months, that’s for sure. Almost mended now, though 🙂

  15. Wishing you a speedy recovery. Feel better soon!

    • Thanks Matt. Very nice to hear from you, too. Hope life is treating you well.


Add your voice to the discussion

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Find out how you can help support EMULSIVE from as little as $2 a month on Patreon.Learn more

All Categories

Recieve the latest from EMULSIVE by email

Recieve the latest from EMULSIVE by email

By subscribing, you agree that your information will be handled in accordance with the EMULSIVE Privacy Policy.

You've subscribed successfully, thanks. We promise to keep your information safe and not sell it on to third parties.

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This

%d bloggers like this: