Mozaz was a great photographer who, like me, didn't see any contradiction in finding beauty as much in abandoned, derelict buildings as in the rolling countryside. And he found much beauty in both. He adored Sheffield and was certainly one of its characters.
And Sheffield, despite itself, will miss him.
As an anarchist, and a troublemaker, and with strong feelings about almost everything, he was often to be found at demonstrations and protests. As a person he found solace in hugging trees, he wasn't ashamed to admit he cried.
The last time I saw him he was proud to have spent the past few hours in a police station. He felt proud that he was considered to be enough of a threat to the state to be worth arresting. Before being released without charge he had made sure to inform all of the coppers of their union rights, urging them to seek advice about whether they should be enforcing fascist government policy. He was exhausting to be with. Everything had the potential to make him rant, often in unexpected ways. But there was an anarchist rave hidden behind every possible situation which could arise, and he never failed to provide it. He was a prolific blogger and was @ur32daurt on twitter.
Mozaz was hard work, but if you looked beyond what was immediately visible he was sensitive, supportive, intense and warm-hearted.
He died in the early hours of this morning after a time in Intensive Care with pneumonia. Through the last few days, since becoming aware of his being ill, I kept hold of the fact that he was surely indestructible. But sadly this proved not to be the case, and he has left this city a little quieter, he has left the police force with a little less work to do, and he has left many people, myself included, reeling.
I'm going to miss you Mozaz, you mad bugger.