So… I’ll never forget one incident, while taking photographs at a wedding. A slightly inebriated guest approaches and shouts something at me. Now, it could’ve been the noise from the disco, his slurred speech or a combination of both, but I instantly looked both puzzled and a little shocked as I responded emphatically… ‘Who, me? No, of course not… what do you mean… what have I done?’.
His turn to look puzzled for a moment, before realisation crept across his face, followed by a broad grin and then a booming laugh… ‘Pics… I said PICS, mate! You taking the PICS, mate?’
I chose to ignore his poor observational skills… me being the only person walking around with a couple of grand’s worth of camera equipment, and using none of it for selfies. I just enjoyed the little mix up and laughed about it as much as he did, as he told the story to each and every guest he spoke to for the rest of the day.
It stuck with me, and so… this is the name of my diary, my blog… Taking The Pixx. Because I am indeed, always… Taking The Pixx.