Nearly eighteen years ago, I started taking a polaroid photograph of myself religiously once a week. It was the end of 1986 and I was living in New York when I suddenly realized that since I left home, I had hardly any photographs of myself. By that time, I had already lived in several countries and had changed my ‘look’ numerous times. It bothered me that I had no images, nothing tangible to show for all that movement in my life. It was then that it occurred to me the idea of photographing myself once a week. I decided that I had to record and document the passing of time, my life, and the ageing process.

Luckily for me, I was with my dear friend, Lesley Chilkes, and she was well aware of the fact that I often had good ideas which I did not follow through and wisely gave me my first polaroid camera for Christmas of that year.

I took my first polaroid in January of 1987, and amazingly enough, I am still taking them! My polaroid of the week as I call it, has become an integral part of my existence. The project has rather taken over my life as I also paint oil paintings using these images. I call the photos “my visual diary”, and this diary grows and grows alongside me. It is a living piece. My polaroid camera is my constant companion wherever I go, whether it be an excursion into the Mexican desert, up a mountain or an afternoon at the pool, if it is the day for “my polaroid of the week” the camera must be lugged along.

A large percentage of the photos are self-portraits, but I will also often ask whoever happens to be with me to take the polaroid, thereby I also record the people that come in and out of my life and those that stay. Recently, I received my first refusal when I asked an old friend to take “my polaroid of the week”. I took a self-portrait and recorded that “no ” in the anecdote.

Right from the very first photograph, I knew this was to be a life-long project. A couple of years ago, there was a moment when polaroid seemed to be going out of business but thank god that did not happen, as I would have had to have gone digital. This would have been a pity, as I love the quality and the immediacy of the polaroid. I am totally obsessed with this project, and at one point, I was even considering having a tattoo done saying: “if you find me dead please take a polaroid.”

Because of my chaotic, nomad existence I often worry about the safety of my polaroids and ideally, would love to see them one day in a museum where they would be preserved and protected. I also long to see the first twenty years which will shortly be completed in one of those big lovely art books. But whatever happens, one thing is for certain, and that is that I will keep on taking “my polaroid of the week” forever.