A storyteller with a camera, weaving light and love into the tapestry of family memories…
Mother. Artist. Storyteller.
I don't think I was ever meant to simply take photographs. I've always been drawn to stories. As a little girl I dreamt of becoming an archaeologist, fascinated by the idea of uncovering the lives of those who came before us. I studied archaeology and surrounded myself with art, always searching for ways to preserve the pieces of life that might otherwise be forgotten.
Life, however, has a beautiful way of leading us exactly where we're meant to be.
For me, that path led to motherhood.
Born in Adelaide and now raising my family beneath the tropical skies of the Northern Territory, my world became filled with tiny moments that felt impossibly important. Bare feet in the backyard. Sandy hair after long afternoons at the beach. Campfires, creek swims, muddy knees and bedtime cuddles. It was there that I realised something.
The ordinary is extraordinary.
Not because it looks extraordinary in the moment, but because one day it's the very thing you'll ache to remember. Photography became the place where everything I'd always loved came together. Storytelling. Art. History. Preservation.
Today, Echoes of Us is an extension of all of those things.
Motherhood has been my greatest muse… The tender chaos, the whispered lullabies, the hands that reach for yours in the quiet moments between the rush.
I am drawn to the wild, unscripted magic of family… the laughter that echoes without restraint, the touch that lingers with love, the fleeting instants that, once passed, become treasures of the past.
It Started at Home…
Photography didn't begin as a business.
It began as a quiet need to hold onto my own life. When I was pregnant, and later when my babies arrived, professional family photographs often felt out of reach. I worried that these fleeting seasons would disappear before I'd truly had the chance to remember them.
After Cillian was born, and through the uncertainty of his heart surgery, that feeling deepened. Time suddenly felt incredibly fragile.
I picked up my camera to preserve my own family. Not just birthdays or milestones, but Tuesday afternoons. Messy kitchens. Tiny fingers wrapped around mine. The expressions that seemed to change overnight. I wasn't chasing perfection. I was chasing memory. Somewhere along the way I realised I wasn't only documenting my children. I was documenting myself too. My motherhood. Our story. The ordinary moments that quietly become the most treasured chapters of our lives.
What began as preserving my own memories slowly grew into helping other families preserve theirs. That is still why I photograph today.
Family on Film..
If digital photography tells a story, film lets you feel it.
Long before I offered it to clients, I documented my own family on 35mm film. There's something beautifully honest about it. Every frame matters. Every click is intentional. There are no endless bursts or instant previews, only trust, patience, and the anticipation of seeing your memories come to life.
The soft grain, imperfect edges and timeless colours remind me that memories aren't meant to be flawless. They're meant to be felt.
Film has become part of the heartbeat of Echoes of Us because it reflects everything I believe about storytelling. Slow down. Be present. Notice what matters. One day these photographs won't simply be pictures. They'll become family heirlooms.
Beyond the Camera…
Outside of Echoes of Us, I'm simply happiest exploring the world with my family.
We're the kind of people who pull over for sunsets, take the long road home, spend weekends camping beneath Territory skies, and come back with pockets full of shells, feathers and tiny treasures my children insist we keep.
I've always been endlessly curious. I lose hours wandering museums, disappear into books, and find myself drawn to the stories held within old places, weathered hands and quiet moments that many people pass by. That curiosity doesn't stop when I put my camera down.
In fact, it probably grows. Through my personal project, Rins, Between, I document our own family's adventures. Not because every day is extraordinary, but because most days aren't. It's the muddy feet, roadside picnics, creek swims, long drives, bedtime cuddles and beautifully ordinary moments that become the stories our children will one day look back on.
I suppose that's what I've always been searching for. Not perfect photographs. Just an honest record of a life deeply lived.
Art taught me to observe. Motherhood taught me to feel. Together they guide the way I hold this work today, creating images that are not about perfection, but about truth, presence, and the quiet poetry of life as it is lived.
