I did not plan any of this. I just wanted to party. At sixteen, Mum told me I was never going to make a living partying every weekend, so I took her camera to the next one and was handed a hundred dollars to capture the mayhem.

It was never about the extra garlic bread I could suddenly afford at the canteen. With time, I realised it was’t even about the parties. It was the way the camera became a gateway to conversation, connection, and community. I was not just taking pictures. I was learning how to see people.

That lesson sharpened when I began photographing nightlife. I watched venues come and go, and the difference was rarely the offer. The ones that endured carry something less visible, yet far more certain: a feeling. A form. An identity recognised before it was understood.

I became obsessed in that quiet intersection where art, strategy, and feeling come together to provide clarity and confidence.

That pursuit has taken me across Australia and Europe working with industry leading entertainment precincts and hospitality groups, trusted not just to make, but to make sense. To shape what is so it can be understood.

And still, I have never left the camera. It remains the first language I learned, now guided not only by instinct, but by intention, shaped by the people and places I work with.