JAYA BONDEROV, MOSCONE CENTER, SAN FRANCISCO

I could fill volumes with the gospel of Jaya Bonderov—his influence, his gravity, the way he pulled the best people into orbit without ever trying. He was a leader by sheer force of existence, a magnet for chaos and brilliance in equal measure. No matter where he landed, I’d find my way to his couch, because that was the eye of the storm—the place where things happened.

Shooting photos with Jaya was never routine. He didn’t do routine. There was always something lurking in his mind, something wild and dangerous, some hair-raising scheme that would leave the rest of us shaking our heads in awe. And every single time, he delivered. These weren’t just sessions. They were moments carved deep into the bones of time, burned into my memory like cigarette scars on a motel nightstand.

One of my oldest, best friends. And one I miss every damn day. (R.I.P.)

• 10 mil (0.25 mm) thick
• Slightly glossy
• Fingerprint resistant
• Paper sourced from Japan