‘I’m spontaneous. I’m spectacular. I’m awesome. I’m immortal’ … Bruce Shh by Wayne Hanson.

Bruce was racing down the street naked and suffering from a stabbing wound to his chest when I first noticed him. He had lately had a second neck cut.

I was a creative director in the advertising industry and residing in San Francisco's Mission neighborhood in 2005. My mental health was beginning to suffer as I struggled under the burden of never-ending briefs that I didn't love. I used to go out and take my own pictures when I wasn't working. Some of the folks who lived on the streets in my neighborhood captured my attention. I just acquired a Hasselblad, so I began talking to and shooting pictures of the people that most fascinated me. I ended up working on this project most weekends over the next three years since I found it to be quite soothing. I developed close bonds with several of the folks. We would chat and I would take them out to lunch.

Bruce was racing bare-chested down the street when I first saw him. His neck was bandaged in an unkempt manner, and he had a stabbing wound in his chest. It came out that he had just had a second neck cut after being accused of selling someone "gaffle," or phony crack. I subsequently discovered that the guy who had slit his throat both times was the same person, and Cut Throat was only one of his many monikers.

One of the most intimidating persons I contacted was Bruce, but after I explained what I wanted to accomplish, he was really receptive. Although mercurial, brilliant, and charming, he had a tendency to go fairly crazy. I shot a lot of photographs of him throughout those three years, and no two are the same. In some of them, he comes off as fairly frightening, while in others, he's just having fun. He enjoyed having his shirt off for pictures and would do press-ups to seem as pumped as possible. I never told him what to do; I would simply push the shutter while we spoke.

"You can see the scar around his neck and the ink on his body. But there's peace in that 'shush' gesture"

I captured him once just as he twisted his head and spit through the space between his two front teeth. Later, when he was wearing a fitted shirt and wireframe glasses and giving off a totally different feeling, I shot some pictures of him as he was leaving rehab. But I believe this one is my favorite. The scar around his neck, the tattoos, markings, and abnormality with one of his retinas are all visible. That "shush" motion, however, also conveys a feeling of serenity, as if he is bringing everything under control.

I don't believe I was aware of the term "privileged white male gaze" at the time, but I was quite aware of not ever wanting to produce exploitative photographs. I often made prints for individuals and always presented them in a respectable manner. As far as I was concerned, I was taking pictures of my neighbors, and I invited everyone to the local exhibition of the pictures. Some showed up, so when Bruce didn't, I wasn't shocked.

There was never any debate about setting up a meeting with him. If we crossed paths, I'd simply snap pictures. I often saw him being arrested, and each time I did, the cops told me to leave. I once saw him and his gang as my girlfriend Britt and I were heading to a restaurant. We slowed down to talk as he rushed for the vehicle, but he then began pointing a pistol at us. "We'd better get off," I replied. We'll be late for our reservation. Wonderful to see you, Bruce. Britt then gently sped off. He wasn't being serious, but it was obvious that he was quite high. I was unwilling to take a risk.

I notified as many people as I could when we made the decision to leave San Francisco, but I can't recall the last time I saw Bruce. After someone recognized Christian in a picture I put on Instagram, I recently got in touch with him. He was another man I had shot back then. He had been in a pretty poor place when I last saw him, but he cleaned up and started working as a counselor at a drug rehab center. He named every person I had ever taken a picture of who had since passed away, but he wasn't sure about Bruce.

On one occasion, I caught Bruce chatting about himself. He once claimed, "I'm really intelligent. I'm incredibly beautiful. I have great sex. I'm impulsive. I'm extraordinary. I'm fantastic. I am eternal. I really hope he's still here. Although I never thought Christian would survive, learning that he did gives me hope that Bruce did.

Wayne Hanson. Photograph: Alessandro D’amario

Wayne Hanson’s CV

Born: Huddersfield, 1966.
Trained: “Self-taught.”
Influences: “I’ve had a very generous mentor for 30 years: Robert Walker, a photographer based in Manchester.”
High point: “Being discovered by Vivienne Westwood on Instagram.”
Low point: “Getting four shortlisted images at the Taylor Wessing awards but none chosen for the gallery wall.”
Top tip: “In light of my work starting to get more recognition as I reach my mid-50s, I feel like I ought to go with an old chestnut: never give up, just keep on keeping on.”

The Bruce Allen Cut Throat Zine is available from @waynehansonstudio. All proceeds go to St Mungo’s homeless charity.

Thanks to Chris Broughton at The Guardian whose reporting provided the original basis for this story.