Smoke suffocated cities hundreds of kilometres away and then circled the earth. The fires burned more than eighteen million hectares. This year Australia experienced our worst bushfire season in history.
And just when we were about to take a breath, grief overlapped with uncertainty and a global anxiety took hold on the human psyche in the form of a virus.
The purpose of telling Jack’s story is to at once acknowledge his disability and his ability to transcend it. It is a limitation of human beings that we struggle to see beyond stereotypes and acknowledge individuals as multifaceted beings. By investigating difference with a focus on banal everyday rituals, we realise that we have more similarities than difference; it is those experiences that universally connect us. It is important to acknowledge Jack’s blindness because it is how he experiences life. However, we can choose to see it not as a limitation; but a challenge, and a valid way to engage with the world.
What the fuck are we doing on this floating piece of rock 150 million km from a burning star anyway? And if the probability of existence is so infinitely improbable. Is this sickness, this inability to feel joy, just a comic joke? Shouldn’t I be drinking in every moment of precious life? Scoffing it in? Filling every moment with sensation? Crushing a fresh tart raspberry between my tongue and the roof of my mouth. Listening to music too loud. Risking eye damage looking into pink sunsets. Absorbing sunshine with my skin. Why can I appreciate the beauty of the world while feeling detached from time and place? Like I have vaseline rubbed in my eyes and anxiety that feels like it’s causing my bones to burn. Being human is absurdity. To cope with the perpetual disappointment, I take photographs and call it art. These intimate, beautiful photographs of gross, decaying fruit are me and my way of finding acceptance with the human condition.
"Sometimes people think that the only way women can make a change is to give birth to a male that will make a change. You know? It’s like no. If you want equal opportunity, let me slay. Let me do it, because I can."
The 'personal is political' phrase coined during the Second Wave of Feminism underscores the motivations of this project '...and she always knows her place.' By sharing our personal stories we are contributing to a larger dialogue about what it means to be a woman in this particular moment in time.
Selected Portraits from commercial, editorial and personal projects.
Written In The Light is an exploration of light and the way it moves through the space of day to day life. Specifically within one Queenslander house. The work captures and extends the seemingly unimportant moments in life.
Light has a transient presence, just like the intermittent parts of our lives which weave together the milestones and significant moments. This is a contradiction; without our rhythms, and quiet moments we would never realise our milestones. Light too is rhythmic, it is reliably methodical and symbolically represents the beautifully ordinary moments of day to day life.
The home is commonplace, it is the place where we live our most intimate moments, where memories are made, and remain. The solidity of the structure is forcibly changed, weathered and scarred by the people who live within it. This is the story of a singular building. It is a rental property now, but has been standing since before the Second World War. Many lives have lived within the walls of this house, and have left behind evidence of their inhabitancy. At the time it was my house, I told the story, and I am apart of the story.
from the series Palya
From the series Lemonade
Experimental film soup
March 4 Justice protest 2021
Sian, from the project …and she always knows her place
from the project Essence
from the project Quietly living at the end of it All
experimental Polaroid from the series Quietly Living at the End of it All
