On 20 June 2024, I stood within the hallowed walls of Melbourne’s Shrine of Remembrance to unveil Of Service. Beneath its timeless arches—a place where silence holds the weight of memory and sacrifice—I presented a project born from a deeply personal and collective journey. Hosted as a public event by the Shrine and facilitated by Sue Burges, Director of Public Programs, the evening welcomed veterans, their families, and dignitaries, including the Minister for Veterans, Hon. Natalie Suleyman, into a shared moment of reflection and connection.

‍Of Service is more than a book; it is a quiet act of defiance against invisibility, a voice for the silenced, and a bridge for understanding. Each photographic portrait is a window into the unspoken, capturing the fragility and strength of 100 veterans as they navigate the shadows of service. These images, paired with their personal narratives, hold a mirror to the enduring struggles with PTSD, depression, and the haunting spectre of suicide. They do not seek to sensationalise but to humanise—to offer the dignity of being indeed seen.

Of Service was not simply about creating; it was about listening. It was about honouring the vulnerability and courage of those who chose to share their stories, trusting me to hold their truth with care. Photography, for me, is a dialogue—a way to explore the spaces between what is said and what is felt. With every portrait, I sought to reflect resilience, humanity, and the unyielding hope that even amidst despair, healing is possible.

The launch itself felt sacred—a space where art bore witness to unspoken struggles, where memory transformed into advocacy, and where hope began to bloom in quiet resilience. Veterans spoke of the catharsis they found in sharing their stories, and I shared my own reflections on what it meant to carry these stories and shape them into something tangible. The Shrine’s reverence transformed the event into more than a gathering; it became a shared reckoning—a call to hold space for the complexities of service and the ongoing battle for mental wellbeing.

‍Of Service is not just a work of art; it is a lifeline. It is a reminder that behind every statistic, there is a person—a life worthy of care, understanding, and connection. Through this project, I hope to foster conversations that ripple outward, to combat stigma, and to remind us all that healing, however elusive, is always within reach.

This evening was not the conclusion of a journey but the beginning of a movement—a collective call to embrace empathy, to honour resilience, and to find beauty in remembering not just what has been lost, but what remains to be healed.

On 26 July 2019, Land is Family was unveiled within the towering timber columns of the heritage-listed Murtoa Stick Shed—a structure as monumental in its physical presence as it is in its quiet symbolism of resilience and purpose. This historic space, once a haven for grain and toil, became a sanctuary for reflection, storytelling, and art, as I launched a project that has been as much a journey of self-discovery as it has been an artistic endeavour.

‍Land is Family is more than a photographic collection; it is a meditation on connection, heritage, and what binds us together. Over 15 months, I immersed myself in the lives of a fifth-generation farming family from Victoria’s Wimmera-Mallee region, capturing their bond with the land and their unyielding resilience. Yet, as I chronicled their story, I found myself asking: What does "family" truly mean? Is it defined by lineage and place, or by the moments we hold, the sacrifices we make, and the connections we nurture? This project became my exploration of those questions—a philosophical search for meaning through the lens of others’ lives.

The fine art book, created as a companion to the exhibition, features a series of black-and-white photographic works—each piece stripped to its monochrome essence to reveal the raw textures of life, labour, and belonging. Produced locally, every image is carefully titled to guide the viewer deeper into its narrative, turning each page into a contemplative dialogue. These visual meditations are not just about farming—they are about the universal threads of resilience, identity, and the fragile balance between humanity and the land.

At the launch, the Murtoa Stick Shed was transformed into a cathedral of connection. Beneath its towering timber beams, I shared the journey of Land is Family with a full audience of farmers, families, and art enthusiasts. I spoke of the privilege of witnessing a legacy shaped by soil and time, and of how the work reflects the echoes of my own questions about family. The Shed became a space not just for celebration, but for quiet contemplation—an opportunity to step into the lives of those whose hands sustain us, and to reflect on the bonds that sustain them in return.

‍Land is Family is more than an art book; it is a bridge—between rural and urban, past and present, art and life. Its two editions—the Collectors’ Edition and the Standard Edition—were designed to carry these stories into the hands of readers, inviting them to reflect on their own connection to the land and to one another.

The launch was not an end but a beginning: a moment to pause and consider that "family" may be found not only in the people around us but also in the landscapes we inhabit, the communities we belong to, and the stories we choose to tell.