I grew up in a close-knit, loving family. My parents gave us amazing experiences . . . and I thanked them by pulling a wardrobe onto my sister while pretending to be Spider-Man. She’s fine. We’re fine.

At university, I was accused by my course leader of eating photographic paper because I got through so much of it. I spent hours in the darkroom, usually developing medium-format film and printing portraits of my much cooler friends.

I was fascinated by the remnants of Sheffield’s steel industry. That interest in place, memory and the traces people leave behind stayed with me. Years later, I documented the renovation of Bingley Five Rise Locks in a personal project that I exhibited locally.

I went on to spend years in a large portrait studio, photographing hundreds of families. It taught me how to meet people where they are, build trust quickly and create consistent photographs without making the experience feel formulaic.

My wife and I met at school. I played guitar badly in a band, and she’s tone deaf. It works. We now have two wonderful daughters who keep me on my toes. One loves being photographed. The other tolerates it. My favourite portraits of them are the ones that capture who they really are.

I’m drawn to work that is both beautiful and grounded – from the dreamlike world of Tim Walker and the quiet street life of Vivian Maier to Pennie Smith’s ability to find the extraordinary in the everyday.

I’m based near Bingley and love spending time outdoors, especially on our allotment, where I enjoy talking to people as much as growing. I also collect vinyl. I have far too many records, according to my family - and not nearly enough, according to me.