There was a time when photography was just something I did in between shifts. I worked in the mines long hours, hard days, a job that paid well but left something missing. I’d finish work covered in dust, dreaming of places I hadn’t seen yet, picturing the kind of life I wasn’t sure I’d ever live.

Eventually, I left. No safety net, no big announcement just a camera, a vision, and a gut feeling I couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t easy. The early years were full of long drives, early mornings, and moments where I genuinely questioned if I’d made a mistake. But I kept chasing light. Kept learning. Kept showing up.

Somewhere along the way, things began to shift. People started connecting with my work. I landed my first big campaign, published a book, and built a community of people who saw the world the way I did wide open, honest, and full of wonder.

But none of this happened overnight. And even now, with everything that’s grown around me, the reason I do this is still the same: to tell real stories, to honour wild places, and to capture something that makes you feel something.

This isn’t just a job it’s the life I chose. And I’m just getting started.