Who I am

My work is grounded in what’s already there.
A fog-draped Melbourne street.
The quiet resilience in a portrait.
The stillness before a storm rolls in.

I don’t try to construct moments — I work with them.
No heavy filters, no pretence. Just light, life, and the space in between.

It started early. I was 14, during the Ash Wednesday bushfires.
Not photographing the chaos — but the smoke that lingered after it.

That moment shaped how I see everything that followed.

I later trained in portraiture, but the images that stayed with me were never the perfectly posed ones.

They were the ones that happened just after —
when people relaxed, shifted, or forgot the camera was there.

That’s where I work.

I’m drawn to contrast — not just visually, but emotionally.
Beauty and decay. Stillness and movement. Control and chaos.

Sometimes the environment tells as much of the story as the person — and I let both exist in the frame.

During Melbourne’s COVID lockdowns, I documented the city as I had never seen it before — empty, quiet, and stripped back to its bones.
That work became Still City, a series exploring what we notice when everything slows down.

Today, my work moves between Melbourne streets, natural portraits, and the shifting moods of weather —
but the intent stays the same:

to capture what’s real, not what’s staged.

I believe a photograph should breathe.
Not perfect — but honest.

When I’m not behind the lens, you’ll find me road-tripping with my family, out in the bush with a fishing rod, or quietly trying not to make every project bigger than it needs to be.

A campfire and a cold one — that’s my reset.

If my work makes you feel like you were standing there — smelling the rain, tasting the fog, hearing the stillness —
then the story’s already been shared.

And that’s the point.