I climb onto a rickety old bus, the kind of bus that should have been retired to the junkyard a decade ago with missing windows and seats grey from a lifetime of dirty pants sitting on them. This is obviously not my first choice of transport… Instead it's my ONLY choice. A landslide blocked the other road and flights were all sold out, so I guess it’s time to buckle up… This seemingly short 50 km drive could take the whole day on these unpaved hilly roads, so I have the option to choose between spending the next 10 hours by:

a) Staring out the window listening to music and thinking deeply about every decision I've ever made in my life

or

b) The freedom of a little extra legroom and people watching from the aisle seat

I choose option A… Aeroplane Mode on (to conserve battery) and disassociation mode ON (to conserve my sanity.) My knees hit the seat in front of me and my head rattles against the window as we travel at a painfully slow pace navigating large rocks to a synphony of horns operated by the many busses and cars also stuck in the traffic jam.

My bag filled with thousands of dollars of camera equiptment balances on my legs, this bag is my fifth limb, I surrender and collapse my head onto it, hmm… surprisingly comfortable. Not allowing myself to fall asleep, I watch as the landscape slowly change from mountains to dusty traffic filled streets. Water from I don't even know where is dripping on my head but I'm too exhausted to investigate where it’s coming from or move so I’m not getting wet. I'm at the end of a multi day hike in the Himalayas and already know that I have to back up this bus ride with ANOTHER 10 hour bus ride tomorrow. But even in this moment, there is nowhere I’d rather be, I'm on such an adventure.

The bus stops periodically to let new passengers on, as people cycle through I don’t bother to look up and see who is sitting next to me, today is not a day I want to chat. At some point, a phone appears in my face, a man is on FaceTime to his friend parading the white girl he has been sat next to. I turned my face and ignore him. He was giving me a bad vibe. One important lesson I learned from travelling alone as a woman is:

Don't be afraid to be a bitch.

The conversation in my head is going something like this; you’re being so rude, maybe just say hello, wait actually I don’t owe this man anything, I should trust my intuition and ignore him. So after 15 minutes of pretending this man didn't exist while he continually asked me questions and FaceTimed all of his male friends… It went quiet. I look over and see him typing into his TikTok search bar ‘girls walking upstairs in leggings’ I roll my eyes and turn back to the window.

Great, only 6hrs left to go… (scroll for the gallery)

Thanks for reading.

Lots of Love, Lucy

There was no exaggeration ^ here is a video for proof. 😳

View Available Prints

“You’ll figure it out, the saying, 'It’s like riding a bike’ is famous for a reason”, my dad says as I pull away from the curb.

27 years old:
Feet still sandy from the beach, I jump on my scooter. I’ve been driving for 2.5 years at this point and slowly worked my way up from a little vespa style scooter to something I could road trip multiple days on.

Sun on my skin, music in my ears, driving the same road I’ve driven a hundred times before. The air is wet and heavy from a big storm that hit the night before…

7 years old:
I start peddling down a steep hill, and my eyes lock onto the river at the bottom. My mind starts racing, I don’t know how to brake, and if I don’t brake in time, I’ll end up in the river! The bike starts to wobble, I fly over the handlebars.

I scrape my face against the ground, blood dripping off my elbows, knees and face… I start to cry. It’s been less than 5 minutes, Dad puts my bike back into the car, and we drive home.

27 years old:
Driving around a corner I’ve driven so many times before, as I turn, I see there is a huge hole where the road used to be. My bike jolts into the ditch, I fly over the handlebars.

The momentum of my body is stopped by my head hitting a stobie pole. No blood, not a single scratch, my head safe from the cushioning in my helmet. Before I realise what’s happened, three men have pulled over to help me untangle myself from the weird position I landed in, one leg under the bike and the other leg somehow over the top of the side mirror. They lift my bike out of the ditch, we share a laugh, and I drive myself home…

7 Years old:
I sit on the couch with ice packs on my wounds, watching cartoons and feeling sorry for myself. My Dad walks into the lounge room and demands that we go outside and ride the bike again. “If you don’t do it now, you’ll be scared forever,” He says as he forces me outside. I safely ride my bike up and down the street in tears and then go back to watching cartoons on the couch. I still love bike riding.

27 Years old:
As I'm driving home, I give thanks; I do not have a single scratch or bruise. I remind myself that I am a capable driver and have done so many crazy adventures on my bike safely. I remind myself that I'm so proud of myself for always wearing my helmet. I remind myself that I am a safe driver and that the speed at which I took the corner meant that I didn’t injure myself in any way.

But the next morning when I woke up, I felt scared. I thought back to my accident 20 years ago, and I thought of the lesson my dad taught me that day: Get back on the bike… So, I went for a drive up and down the road. I still love driving my scooter.

Thanks for reading,

Lots of Love, Lucy.

P.s. This post is part of an experiment I'm doing to help me fall back in love with storytelling. The goal is to write a 150-word essay every day about anything you feel like. I felt like I had squeezed myself into a niche of travel stories and want to explore what type of writing I'm drawn to, so if you want to follow along on this journey with me:

This month, I will break down the recap into the following categories:

• A conversation that inspired me

• Fun things I photographed

• Trips I went on

• Something I’m grateful for

A conversation that inspired me:

My friends and I had a discussion about the vulnerability that comes with sharing your emotions, art, music, beliefs and anything else that is remotely deep. We spoke about Marina Abramovi who is a conceptual and performance artist. She is famously known for this image below along with many other public performances where she uses her body as a medium for exploring the connection between audience and artist. She once stood still for six hours while letting the public use 72 different objects on her, ranging from a rose to a loaded gun. In the beginning of the experience, people were kind to her, brushing her hair and offering her flowers. It later turned towards anger and hatred, once one person showed her pain, others soon followed and even started cutting her! Until the gallery owner shut it down and forced everyone to leave.

This conversation inspired me to allow myself to be more vulnerable. Not in such a drastic way like this, but by opening the door and allowing some of myself to be seen.

• Fun things I photographed

This month, I did a few different shoots for brands and also spent some time in front of the camera modelling for various brands. But FUN things I photographed…

I got this new toy, I’m back to shooting film! I bought it second-hand online with no idea what condition it was in so I loaded it up and had a play.

The result was pretty crazy because it had a lot of light leaking in. I like this vibe, but next time I will cover the edges with black tape to try to avoid it happening again. Shooting film was so much fun. I love being restricted in so many ways, such as not being able to zoom, not being able to change any settings, not being able to see the photos, and only being able to take 36 exposures. I can’t wait to keep experimenting with it.

This month I also added a new print to my print shop, a photo I took in Laos. This image was taken on my lunch break while I was volunteering as an English teacher in a village in Laos. I went for a walk and found some local kids playing in the lagoon. I stood taking photos of them over and over again as they jumped into the water. No matter how many photos I took it was never enough; they would have kept trying different jumps for the whole afternoon. I posted this photo as a note and It gained a bit of traction so if you like it, now it’s available.

A small selection of images I share are available as prints in my shop for those wanting to support my work and collect a photograph from the trip.

You can check them out by clicking here:

PRINTS

Trips I went on:

A super close friend in Australia text me saying she had been made redundant from her job and that she was going to fly to see me. I was so excited. Together we did a little trip to Ubud. The spontaneity of her coming to visit reminded me of the magic that can happen in life, the unexpected and amazing things that can happen every day.

Later in the month, I flew to Java to visit my friend who was volunteering in one of the local communities. We spent time sightseeing around java but I don’t have so many photos to share, I was focusing on making a video instead… When I have some time, I will edit and maybe share on YouTube.

Something I’m grateful for

You are who you surround yourself with, and I am so so so grateful for all of my friends. They inspire me every day and have become my family away from home. I am reminded every day to pour love into my friendships and I would be lost without them.

Thanks for reading this month’s recap

Lots of Love, Lucy.

Traditionally this type of dance has a reputation of being a space that attracts a lot of free-spirited hippie archatypes. The dance moves aren’t constrained to usual social norms and people are expressing themselves in whatever way they feel called to. I heard rumours of people sliding over the floor like a snake, sitting at the edge in meditation and everything in between.

I did NOT attend…

The thought of attending this kind of space gave me full-body contractions and second-hand embarrassment. I remember thinking to myself, ‘If I ever have the confidence to attend an ecstatic dance, I would be so proud of myself’

For many years, I had paralysing social anxiety… Looking back, at the time I wasn’t aware of just how bad my anxiety was, it looked like; my face and chest going completely red when I felt uncomfortable in a social situation, sweating on my face when first greeting someone, a knot in my stomach and not feeling hungry before an event, ruminating thoughts about how I had been perceived during a conversation and the feeling of not beeing able to speak freely in fear of being misunderstood.

I was so disconnected from my body’s signals and even worse, I had ZERO tools to learn how to work through these sensations! My psychologist tried, she prescribed me the following: every day, put music on and shake your body for 10 minutes alone in your room.

EVEN THIS WAS TOO MUCH! I couldn’t be alone in my room and dance without feeling stupid. I would cringe at myself and freeze. I had no shame in standing awkwardly at the edge of a room while everyone else danced, and even if you dragged me by the hand, I would run away as soon as I got the opportunity.

But… Dancing is medicine. Dancing IS therapy. let me explain…

Every day our bodies are under stress, something as simple as an uncomfortable email can activate our sympathetic nervous system (fight/ flight/ freeze) and the body shows this through increased heart rate, the release of adrenaline and cortisol, and increased muscle tension. This body response is giving you the room to run, climb, fight or escape. But as we read this uncomfortable email, we do the following: sit still, keep working, stare at the computer and try to ‘think’ our way out of stress. The body is ready for action but the action never happens.

If you instead get up and move, it’s telling your brain that you are taking action and as you continue to move, your stress hormones begin to metabolise. The brain receives sensory feedback that you are no longer frozen. This allows your parasympathetic nervous system (rest and digest) to take over again.

So why did my psychologist specifically tell me to shake my body alone in my room? Involuntary shaking helps to discharge this high state of psychological arousal associated with the survival response, everything that has been stacking up during the day that you weren’t able to release in the moment. Think about it, we naturally shake when we experience intense fear or when we are crying and some people begin to tremble during events such as public speaking.

Many of us learn to suppress this because shaking can feel embarrassing. (I’m so guilty of this) So creating a somatic shaking practice can intentionally remind the body that it’s safe to release.

So, back to dancing…

I never went to nightclubs; it’s not my scene. But as I started travelling, I found myself listening to live music on the beach and surrounded by people that influcenced movement in a safe and supportive way. My shell was slowly getting cracked open, and I noticed that the next day, I always felt amazing. (I very rarely drink alcohol, so I wasn’t hungover) This feeling became addictive, and the more I danced, the more I wanted to dance!

It introduced me to all new styles of music, and for the first time in my life, I was connecting with people differently. I still felt awkward sometimes, but I would lean into it, observing my thoughts and moving them instead of attaching to them.

I felt my body soften, years of tension slowly releasing, mobility increasing and with it, my confidence too!

It taught me the most important lesson: You can’t think your way out of a feeling in your body; you have to create new experiences for your nervous system to learn from. That each time you step out of your comfort zone and show your body that it’s still safe, the deeper your capacity becomes. Until one day you wake up and the thing that scared you so much doesn’t scare you anymore.

So in the end, I did attend an ecstatic dance. It was a symbolic moment for me, a ritual I created for myself to give gratitude for how far I have come on this journey. My friends joined me, and I observed the room… I noticed that my original judgments were only a reflection of myself and that I originally felt uncomfortable watching people be the most authentic versions of themselves because I didn’t have the courage to be the most authentic version of myself! That the second-hand embarrassment I would feel watching someone else dance was not second-hand embarrassment at all… it was entirely my embarrassment. That this wasn’t a space for this ‘hippie’ archetype to connect, it was a space for people to connect back to their bodies and to their childlike curiosity with movement.

My curiosity grew, and I began to take dance classes. I was feeling so uncomfortable once again, being a beginner and having people observe me moving in such a rigid, uncoordinated way. But instead of freezing and avoiding, I used it as a way to connect, laughing and getting other people in the class to help teach me. Knowing that the goal wasn’t ever to be ‘good’ at dancing but to learn the language of my body. Now I love to attend ecstatic dances, well, any type of dance… sign me up!

Often, we don’t realise how far we have come until we stop and take a minute to reflect back, realising that the small habits every day are compounded and that slowly you transform into a new version of yourself.

Be kind to yourself <3

Love, Lucy.

I write this blog for fun, for me! And I love that so many of you have found it and are also along for the journey. So welcome to a bit of behind-the-scenes of my life.

This month, I will break down the recap into the following categories:

• Something I’m proud of myself for

• A new hobby I started

• Something I’m grateful for

• Something I’m looking forward to

Something I’m proud of myself for:

What’s that famous quote? Something about how it's important to write down your goals? Anyway, I took the advice and made a list of all the things I want to create. One of which was a women’s circle that focuses on art.

A space for girls to come together and make new friends, express themselves and get in touch with their creativity… However, one of my worst traits is that I have so many ideas that stay ideas forever because I don’t take action on them. So this month, I chose one thing from my list and forced myself to bring it into existence.

I made a group chat and found a space I could host everyone, then made a plan about what we would do. It was simple: a live drawing class. Everyone who attends must participate as a model and a person drawing. The theme was: Allow yourself to be seen. It can feel super vulnerable to sit in front of a group of people and have them draw you so I was really proud of all the girls for giving it a go.

Separate to this event, I also had a friend draw me one night as we were watching the sunset. I asked him to incorporate a superpower based on my personality into the drawing and he gave me fairy wings.

A new hobby I started:

I don’t know if I can even call it a hobby yet, but I’ve fallen in love with the handpan. An instrument that is hard to come by and unsurprisingly expensive. It calms my whole body and the vibrations ripple through the room. I am scouting to find one that I can properly learn on… watch this space…

Something I’m grateful for:

This month, like every f*kn month, I’m saying goodbye to friends… This place warms my heart and breaks it over and over again. I’m so grateful for all the amazing people in my life, it is the thing that makes me the happiest. I spent majority of my life feeling like I was the black sheep of every friendship group and it feels so good to have finally found my people. My friends have taught me so much and community is one of the areas of my life I pour the most energy into.

Something I’m looking forward to:

I’m in the process of planning a trip to another island in Indonesia, for now, I’ll keep it a secret and let it be a surprise! I will be back to my roots, showering with a bucket and roaming around with my camera. I’ll be leaving on this adventure in July so stay tuned… :)

Lots of Love,

Lucy

This portrait was taken on a hike in the mountains of Sapa, Vietnam.

The women in this area earn an income by selling various handmade crafts, mainly to tourists. There are ever-changing laws and regulations about where these women are allowed to sell their crafts, as tourists felt the constant pressure from pestering in the town centre.

A small selection of these images are available as prints in my shop for those wanting to support my work and collect a photograph from the trip.

You can check them out by clicking here:

PRINTS

The women hike into the town centre every day and the trail to their village is shared with a lot of popular hiking routes. A group of women were walking back to their village, sharing the trail with our hiking group. This was a unique opportunity to create a connection in a situation that didn’t feel transactional or pressured. We were able to hear stories of how these women live their lives, the hustle of selling their crafts, and the patience and community effort of creating the various pieces they sell.

When we reached her village and were parting ways, I wanted to support her, but as I was travelling light, I didn’t have the space to buy additional items. I wanted to offer her money instead but was feeling torn because I didn’t want to be disrespectful. She earns an honest wage from selling her craft I didn’t want her to feel like she was begging.

I gave her the money in a way that felt like a gift, and in return, she took a bracelet from her arm and slid it onto mine.

The bracelet she gave me was created from old Vietnamese coins, and this gesture stayed with me. Unfortunately, the metal gave me a rash, and I wasn’t able to wear the bracelet, but I kept it, and when I see it in my jewellery box, I am reminded of this woman.

Thanks for following along.

Lots of love, Lucy

- March, 2024

View Available Prints

The Amazon Rainforest is huge… I was only able to spend 5 days in one tiny section. This is a visual diary of my experience.

Like usual, there’s a much longer story behind these images. Soon, I’ll share more text-based post about why I was there, the people I met, and what happened along the way. But for now, please enjoy this collection of moments from the trip. :)

Daily life along the river photographed as we slowly explored with a canoe.

This kid kept climbing the whole way to the top of this huge tree and then jumped into the river! He was truly fearless.

It was really difficult to photograph this morning; the humidity was extremely high and my camera lens was fogging up almost instantly.

We hiked into this spot in the night and slept (barely) in hammocks.

A small selection of images from these blogs are available as prints in my shop for those wanting to support my work and collect a photograph from the trip.

You can check them out by clicking here:

PRINTS

The government recently funded a school for this area, the construction feels out of place with everything else around being wooden structures. The community also gained access to electricity for the first time when the school was built, as a generator was installed. The generator works for a few hours each day and shuts off every day at 10 pm. The community each contributes money to pay for petrol to fuel the generator.

Thanks for following along :)

Lots of Love, Lucy

View Available Prints

If I didn’t reply to your text, please don’t be offended. I love you. I want to find a better system at keeping in contact so I am starting this newsletter to update everyone all at once, once a month. <3

Let me break it down into some categories…

• Things I Photographed

• Something I Learned

• Something that made me happy

• Something that made me sad

Let’s get into it…

1. Things I Photographed:

This shoot was for my beautiful friend’s brand. She creates silk garments and uses natural plant dyes to colour them. If you want to see more of her stock, you can visit her website here - https://silkandearth.love

I had so much fun doing this shoot; it aligns so much with my values, and I love creating with women, showcasing the feminine in a way that is respectful and elegant.

I even ended up stepping in front of the camera:

2. Something I Learned…

Starting a new hobby is HUMBLING! I have been taking all sorts of dance classes recently and it never gets easier. Every class, I feel like I’m the worst one there. Being bad at something makes me want to crawl into my shell and I have to keep reminding myself that “being bad at something is how you get better.”

Learning dancing has been so good, it forces me out of my comfort zone and teaches my nervous system that people can witness me being messy, not perfect and slow to learn without judgement.

3. Something that made me happy

I live with 12 friends, I could make a whole reality TV show about it… I love living in a community and spending so much time with people that I have to schedule alone time. So, I had a date night with myself. It consisted of eating takeaway pizza on the floor whilst studying this week’s vocabulary from my Bahasa Indonesia classes. I ended up finding coloured pencils and drawing all over the empty pizza box.

And from this, an idea was born…

Later in the week, my friends and I planned to order pizza together and have one big art day painting on our empty pizza boxes. However, we got impatient waiting for the pizza to arrive… It started with a small dot of paint on my leg and turned into a puddle of people intertwined, painting each other on the grass.

It was a whole afternoon of laughs.

4. Something that made me sad

This month, I reflected a lot on love. I said goodbye to three beautiful friends and whilst, sadly, I won’t be able to see them in person anymore, I am so happy that they are chasing their passions and going off on their own adventures.

It’s taken me a long time to build up the resilience to be saying goodbye to friends all the time and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t affect me… My friends are scattered all over the world (hence so many message notifications!)

Thats all the highlights from this month :)

Lots of love,

Lucy 🩷

Music echoes, and I can barely hear the conversation; a mixture of English, Spanish, and Indonesian words are bouncing around the room. The strangest part is that twenty-four hours earlier, I didn’t know anyone here.

Let me rewind.

I was travelling alone through the South of Lombok in Indonesia, I met two Spanish girls at a yoga class and by the end of breakfast we were laughing like old friends. I probably shouldn’t have trusted two strangers right away, but hanging around these girls felt like a deep exhale. They are two best friends from childhood, so it would have been easier for them to speak in Spanish, but instead they chose to include me in their jokes, translating everything to English. After an afternoon together, they invited me to join them, driving a few hours north to another spot in Lombok the following day. So I went…

One minute I’m complimenting a girl’s outfit in a yoga class, and the next minute we are making Tortilla de Patatas (Spanish omelette) in the kitchen of our homestay in Tetebatu. I always prefer to stay in more local accommodation to get this cosy home-like experience, and this homestay had exactly that. The accommodation doubled as a school for the local kids and was covered in colourful signs, artwork and learning toys. We stayed up late into the night watching the stars as we ate our dinner cross-legged on the floor outside with the local family that was hosting us. They told us stories of the area and how it’s changed over the years. They explained to us how they usually sleep on a bamboo mat like the one we were eating our dinner on, and that when they opened their home to tourists, they bought mattresses for the first time. When the mattresses arrived, they tested them out and decided that sleeping on the floor was more comfortable as it offered more support. I was mind-blown that, given the choice, they thought sleeping on a hard floor was better.

I’ve been seeing lots of new subscribers lately. If you’re new here, I’m Lucy — a photographer sharing stories from all over the world through images and writing.

A small selection of the images in my blogs are available as prints in my shop. For those wanting to support my work and collect a photograph from the trip. You can check them out by clicking here:

PRINTS

The following day, we woke up early to do an easy hike in the jungle, but the real fun began after the hike when we started to get hungry. At the edge of the jungle, we noticed a little house that looked like it could maybe be a restaurant. We were so hungry and sick of walking that it felt like this was our best/only option. Peering inside, we saw a group of artists giggling and painting in the backyard.

“ah… hey? Do you guys serve food?” We asked with hesitation.

They all looked at each other, giggling, as if to say yes we do serve food, but we don’t feel like serving food right now… One guy stood up after an awkward silence and handed us some menus.

The three of us girls also love painting, so after we decided what to eat, we sat with the remainder of the boys in the backyard watching them paint and asking questions. They told us that they are currently working on another project inside the house, which is a mural on each wall.

Without knowing anything about my artistic abilities, one guy slapped a paintbrush into my hand. I stood in front of a huge empty wall, a blank canvas… paralysed with confusion and anxiety, I didn’t know how to paint the first line. Are these guys serious? Can I really just paint on this wall? Are they going to change their mind and get mad at me when they see that I’m not good at painting? So many thoughts are rushing through my head. “Don’t be shy, just start.” He said as he grabbed my hand with the paint brush still firm in my grip, pushing it closer to the wall and creating a big squiggly messy mark. I stood back and looked at the perfect white wall that now had a huge red mark in the middle. I guess I’ll turn it into a love heart?

The other girls quickly joined in, making messy marks all over the wall of this random guy's house. We had no structure to our painting, just a bunch of random shapes, but the guys didn’t seem to care; in fact, I think they even liked it?

This is how the wall looked in the beginning…. :/ (keep scrolling, it get a bit better)

We stayed deep into the night and became friends with these guys, they tried their best to speak English, and we tried our best to speak Indonesian, but most of our communication was through music, singing, dancing and painting. I felt such a connection even though we couldn’t really communicate with words.

Sometimes when I travel, I feel disconnected from the local people because I can’t speak their language, but this reminded me that there are many universal languages and not to be so shy… You never know where you can end up when you start taking and taking a genuine interest in the people you meet along the way.

Below is an image of the progress of the wall by the next morning, I think much more has been done but I haven’t been back to visit yet. Next time im in Lombok I will have to update you on how it looks now that its finished. :)

The image below is of one of the other walls in the house with a finished Mural on it.

Thanks for following along.

Lots of love, Lucy

This article is a visual diary from a four-day trip through Sumba Island, Indonesia.

There’s a much longer story behind these images. Soon, I’ll share a text-based post about why I was there, the people I met, and some of the chaos that happened along the way. But for now, please enjoy this collection of moments from the trip.

We spent 4 days living in the village from the image above. We were welcomed in and participated in the culture and traditions of the community.

A small selection of these images are available as prints in my shop for those wanting to support my work and collect a photograph from the trip.

You can check them out by clicking here:

PRINTS

My friends and I spent lots of time during this trip drawing portraits. This is one of the drawings I did.

We spent some time with the women in the community, and they showed us the process from start to finish of how they weave Ikats.

Thanks for following along. :)

This space is where I share photographs, visual diaries, and longer stories from my travels… If you’d like to support my work, you can subscribe or explore my print shop below.

Subscribe now

View Available Prints

I find it useful to do small creative tasks often, to just create. Knowing that whatever I’m writing, photographing, or drawing doesn’t have to be seen by anyone. If I feel like sharing, that’s ok, and sometimes I do, other times I don’t.

Let me share some images from a shoot I did, just for fun:

I go through phases where I feel super creative and other times when I feel frozen and creatively choked. I have been trying to find a system to keep my creativity flowing and here are some things I’ve found that work:

1. Do one small creative task every day

This doesn’t have to be big; it could be a 5-minute sketch on a napkin while you are waiting for your food or writing a short poem in the notes app on your phone while you wait for the train.

2. When you have an idea, take action immediately

Action can look different; it might be as simple as writing your idea down, it could be contacting someone who can help you to bring your idea to life, or just starting.

So when my friend contacted me saying he had an idea to do a shoot in a lotus pond, I said yes!

The lotus is sacred and holds a lot of symbolism:

The lotus grows in the mud, and yet the petals remain protected, white and pure. They bloom with the sunrise and retreat into themselves with the afternoon/evening light. Lotus flowers are extremely symbolic; in both Hinduism and Buddhism, the lotus flower is seen as the source of creation. They are deeply connected to the goddess Saraswati, who is the Hindu goddess of music, arts, knowledge, wisdom, and learning. She is almost always depicted sitting on a white lotus and is a reminder that when you allow yourself to sit in stillness for a moment, inspiration can drop into your mind seemingly out of nowhere. When you move out of your own way, you can see the way with clarity and confidence. She knows that creativity can’t be forced it can only be felt.

We were doing this shoot in Bali, where the goddess Saraswati is deeply respected, as most people who live here are Hindu. Understanding the spiritual significance of the lotus pond, we approached the shoot with respect and care. We wanted to capture the early sunrise light to avoid any harsh shadows and keep the aesthetic of this shoot as soft and peaceful. We woke up in the dark, and my friend gently made his way into the pond, delicately moving through, making sure not to break or squish any of the plants.

There was no one else around, the water was completely still, and the whole area was silent. We were embodying Saraswati and her wisdom, allowing ourselves to sit in stillness and observing as inspiration channelled through us. Not forcing but allowing. Creating art for the sake of being creative, not putting any pressure on an outcome.

It’s a common misconception that some people are creative and others aren’t, but I believe that the people who are labelled as creative are just spending more of their time creating! Creativity is a muscle, and if you don’t use it, you lose it.

Bali

Nov 2025

If you read my recent blog ‘The Cost of Community,’ you’ll remember this:

So this is where the story continues; this is what happened in Sumatra…

I was scared of going to Sumata alone, but It wasn’t the jungle that scared me, it was the men. I had heard horrible stories about women feeling uncomfortable (and worse) in Sumatra, and I didn’t want to put myself into that situation. Most men will never fully understand the feeling of travelling completely alone as a woman, because as soon as even just one other man is accompanying me, the other men show me so much more respect. The inappropriate comments and gestures stop almost immediately. This frustrates me a lot and is the biggest thing that holds me back.

So my four friends and I landed in Medan and hired bikes to drive about 3hrs to the jungle in Bukit Lawang. Most people hire a car because the roads are really bad and it’s quite a stressful drive in the city with lots of traffic, but we thought it would be more fun to drive ourselves, in hindsight we definitely should have taken a car. We arrived exhausted and covered in dust, dehydrated and in desperate need of a cold shower. As we crossed into the town, a swarm of at least 7 or 8 men surrounded my bike, stopping me from driving. They were calling out my name and telling me to follow them. I was surrounded and had absolutely no idea how they knew my name or why they were targeting me. They were all shoving their phones in my face, saying ‘you text me’ and another butting in saying ‘no, you text me!’ I had only texted one company, so with my bike still running and me exhausted and ready to run someone over lifted my helmet visor. I pulled out my phone and called the one guy I had been texting and said, "Show me your phones.” Only one phone was ringing, so as a group we reluctantly followed the one guy to his office on the Main Street. It turns out there was another girl called Lucy who was also arriving by bike at the same time as us had been texting ALL the companies, so they had rushed to the edge of town to try and win her business as she arrived. I saw her WhatsApp photo and we looked extremely similar, and having the same name was just a coincidence! A crazy coincidence. Situations like this made me grateful that I had travelled in a group. We had originally thought we would stay at the accommodation of the tour company, but after the chaos of our arrival, we were irritated and wanted to find our own place, so we started knocking on doors asking if anywhere had some rooms available. When we met a beautiful young woman and a female-run homestay… sold.

Even though the situation turned out to be harmless, it’s a reminder of how vulnerable you are if people have bad intentions. I try not to live in fear of ‘what if’s’, but this moment reminded me why I didn’t want to come alone.

The energy shifted immediately. At the homestay, we all worked together making dinner with some music playing and were able to get a good night’s sleep.

The next morning, we set off to start our hike. Usually, when you’re on a hike, there is a destination to reach, something to race towards. But this hike was different; it felt peaceful, slow, and the goal wasn’t the destination, it was to look up, to look around, to connect with nature. To find the orangutans, you have to slow down and notice the sounds. We would find an orangutan and stop to watch it for a while, then slowly keep moving. This is the perfect style for me. I was learning to do the dance between capturing the moment with my camera and living the moment, stopping to observe the animal in all its beauty in real life, not through my viewfinder. This style was perfect for me because my favourite way to do everything is slowly; I eat slowly, wake up slowly, get ready slowly, and most of all, I hike extremely slowly. I love to get distracted in the small details... and at the end of the day, isn’t that the whole point? What’s the rush?!

The first time seeing an Orangutan in the wild was magical, I felt like I was inside of a National Geographic documentary. I was pinching myself and couldn't believe it was real. At first, I didn't want to grab my camera; I didn't know if this would be the only orangutan I would see the whole trip or if I would have lots of opportunities, so I wanted to just observe. Sometimes the orangutan got so close that I couldn’t take photos of them because most of the time I had my 200-400mm lens on my camera, which meant it was too zoomed in. I never thought they would be so close that this would be an issue! It felt magical.

We spent two nights sleeping in tents in the jungle. The second night our campsite was next to this huge river so we spent a lot of time creating rock sculptures and trying to see who could balance the biggest rocks on top of one another. It was so nice to spend the whole day in nature and be fully disconnected from our phones, artificial light and the noise of the outside world. Part of me didn’t want to leave. Every time I’m in nature, I have these thoughts. I used to get scared of bugs and insects, but now I’m way more scared of ever having to live in a city again.

The next morning, we explored around the area and our guide showed us a natural rope swing into a freezing cold lagoon.

After three days in the jungle, we made our way back to the town. We swam in the river and walked around observing the chaos of the weekend.

Here is a small photo gallery showing the town that borders the jungle:

To finish this story, I gift you this picture of me, after boasting about travelling for so long with no luggage, this is the reality: laundry day means I have absolutely zero clothes and had to steal an outfit from one of the boys. After riding our bikes all the way back to Medan, we stopped in the city for dinner. As I was parking, I heard a man say to his friend in Indonesian, “Is that a boy or a girl?” I turned around and laughed. He was embarrassed to realise that I could understand what he had just said. But, I don’t blame him…

Sumatra, Indonesia
- July 2025

Below is my favourite shot from my time spent in Luang Prabang, and let me tell you the story behind it…

This image shows two young girls patiently waiting with their hands in prayer and baskets ready to receive. While the rest of the town is giving food to the monks, these children were waiting for donations. I observed as many young boys took rice and other food from their baskets and placed it into the girls’ baskets. For many of these boys, they were sent by their parents to live at the monastery because it provides them with a free education, free accommodation and free food. Sadly, the young girls don’t get this same opportunity. In rural and poor communities, not getting an education leaves girls without many options for their future.

One morning after the ceremony as I was walking back to my accomodation was stopped by a parade on the street with many elephants walking in a line.

Laos,

2024

I thought that if I isolate myself, I will remove all distractions and thoughts/ beliefs from other people and this will give my own unique ideas room to surface. I went there hoping I would leave with some direction and clarity. Instead, I left feeling disregulated, frozen and more confused than ever, so it turns out, you probably shouldn’t spend so much time alone. This is where I met Mega, she is the niece of the farmer who owned and worked in the rice fields around my bungalow. Their family welcomed me in with generosity and kindness, when we first met, she was just about to give birth.

Fast forward a few months later I had the honour of photographing a traditional Balinese ceremony for her baby boy. I admire the Balinese people and their culture a lot, and on this day, I was noticing all the details that much more. Photography is such a meditation for me, forcing me into the present moment, focusing on each moment as it plays out. The Balinese people have ceremonies often, and I notice in my own life that when I am visiting the same places and doing the same activities, I stop noticing all these small details; they become mundane. I wonder if the Balinese people notice the beauty of their ceremonies or if it becomes so normal to them. The same way someone going to the local church their whole life wouldn’t appreciate the art and architecture every visit. I was attending the ceremony with fresh eyes, and I was feeling mesmerised by all the little things. The explosion of colour in the clothing, the details and care that go into the offerings and how they use a different flower petal used for each moment during prayer. I loved the jewellery and chunky rings the men were wearing, but the thing I noticed most was the sense of community. Everyone had joined in the celebration, each with their own role and were doing so with a smile.

I felt so welcomed by the family, and by the end of the ceremony, I had such mixed emotions; I was feeling jealous, but at the same time, I was feeling so full of love after witnessing such a wholesome celebration. Feelings of jealousy are always a key into what you really want, and my biggest thought was that the Balinese people are so lucky to have such a strong community, but actually, it’s not luck… It’s hard work.

Now, it’s easier than ever to connect, but I think it’s made us even more disconnected than ever before. It’s easy to sit at home and create a false level of intimacy through micro connections on your phone or through connecting with characters on a TV show. But if you were to strip all these things away and were left only with humans you could talk to in person, I think all of a sudden our schedules would free up and our willingness to go out on a day we aren’t feeling 100% would increase. I often have days where I want to stay home, feeling anxious, feeling sad, not wanting to make the effort to have conversations with people… but that’s the medicine for getting you out of these moods. Connection helps bring us back.

So after spending a month alone making friends only with geckos, frogs and all sorts of other animals that live in the rice field, I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t know ‘what I was going to do with my life’ so instead I decided to just go and live it. I packed a 25L backpack with my camera gear and some clothes, I took my bike and without putting on the map I just drove. I let my intuition be my guide and 4 months later, wearing the same few items of clothing that I had squeezed into my small bag I somehow found myself in Sumatra. Along the way I made some amazing connections, took some great photos, and most importantly, reminded myself that when you don’t know what’s next just do SOMETHING and the rest of the path will appear as you go. I learnt that it’s ok to ask for support and that next time i’m feeling stressed I don’t have to run away to the jungle. I learnt that to have good friends you have to BE a good friend! That it’s so important to pour love, commitment and time into all the relationships in your life. That if your community is strong you can go through the best and worst of times and know that you will be supported. Each time I feel like bailing on an important event or feel too lazy to check in with a friend I think back to this period and remember that community is not luck, it’s hard work.

I felt very honoured to be invited into such an important moment in this family’s lives. Here is a small gallery of moments from the day:

August 2025

Bali, Indonesia

This week’s post is different from usual; it’s a love letter to life. A moment to stop and soak in the gratitude of all these small, wonderful moments.

I am thankful for this moment of stillness, for allowing me to embrace the seasons of expansion and contraction. I am grateful for my health and for every tiny cell in my body that works every day to keep me energized. I am grateful for all the people cheering me on; they don’t always make themselves seen, but I feel their quiet presence in the hundreds of nameless views on this blog. I am grateful to be living a life so full of fun, to be laughing so hard I cry almost every day. I am grateful for the lessons hidden inside the harder days, the reminder that growth doesn’t come without challenge.

I am so grateful for every aspect of my life.

So, that’s it, nothing fancy, just a reminder to myself that there’s so much to be grateful for, even in the quiet, ordinary days.

Bali,

September 2025

Me: “I’m so jealous you’re going to Nepal, I want to go back”

Her: “You should come”

And the rest is history.

A few days later, I booked a flight. My flight is ‘free’ because I’m using my airline points, but to get to the airport, I have to take a boat for 18 hours over two days on a river from Laos to Thailand and then take a train for 14 hours. So really… how ‘free’ is it? But this is where the adventure lies, taking the unconventional route. This was the best option because I had an awkward number of days where my visa was going to expire, but I didn’t want to fly to Nepal too early because then ill be risking my visa there expiring before I was ready to leave there too.

The first time I was in Nepal, I mistakenly wore a singlet top into the hustle and bustle of Kathmandu, instantly regretting my decision as men looked at me, licking their lips and making inappropriate comments. I was so overwhelmed by the culture shock and anxious about my own safety that I threw up. My thoughts were spiralling, I’d quit my job to go and travel for a few months, and I was already throwing up from my anxiety. But the crazy thing is, the more uncomfortable situations you put yourself in, the bigger your comfort zone will grow, and my comfort zone has grown so much since my first trip to Nepal!

If you’ve read my first blog, you’ll remember that my first time in Nepal was chaotic and eventful. I decided that this time I wanted to experience it differently. The two girls id met volunteering, and I re-grouped in Pokhra with zero gear and zero idea. We cluelessly walk into an office building and ask if we can get a permit to hike the Annapurna Circuit. They advise us that the trail is about to close for the monsoon season, so not to make any delays. We spend the afternoon walking the streets, buying and hiring everything we will need. You can quite literally arrive in Nepal with nothing and have everything you need by the end of the day for 1/4 of the price of buying it at home, and the quality is fine. (Except for the Gore-Tex, buy any wet-weather stuff from a real store.)

We decide that we aren’t going to take a guide or porters, so we pack the absolute essentials into our bags, trying to be as light as possible. “Do you think taking three T-shirts is excessive for twelve days?” I ask the girls as I’m trying to cut a bar of soap in half. I took only the absolute essentials and then completely overloaded my bag with camera gear. We set off with our backpacks and a screenshot of the trail map on our iPhones.

I felt light. I felt free. I felt so grateful that I had done the scary thing and come to Nepal that first time because it was a decision that changed my life and evolved my personality. I felt calm and I felt safe, I had everything I could ever need in my bag. We had no time frame and were in no rush, the goal: enjoy the mountains. Something I didn’t feel like I was able to do on my first trip. We would hike during the day and stop for a nice, long lunch, and then when we were ready to settle down for the night, we would knock on the door of the tea house that had the best vibes from the outside and ask if we could stay the night. I struggle travelling in a group; to me, it’s necessary that I spend at least some time alone during the day, but it worked out perfectly. The girls would speed ahead with our new friends, and I would linger behind, slowly making my way through the trail and stopping to take photos. I was hiking so slowly, enjoying every second because when I left Nepal the first time, I didn’t know when I would be back, and now, after this trip, I also don’t know if it will be the last time. When it was time to connect again as a group, we would spend the whole time laughing so hard that we could barely get our words out. When I was planning on quitting my job and first travelling, I spent so much energy stressing about the unknown… If only I knew how much fun I was going to have and all the amazing people I was going to meet!

After five days of sweating through my clothes and re-wearing them, I hear rumours of a hot shower. I’m standing outside shivering on a small cement square surrounded by mud, naked, watching as the ice-cold water sprays out of a make-shift shower head. Any second now, it will start to get warm, come on! I believe! I look up and I’m mesmerised by the view of the snowy mountains, this has to be the coolest gross shower I’ve ever been in. I lose hope of the water ever turning warm and hold my breath as I dunk myself into the icy water. I begin laughing to myself, thinking back to when I was in high school, I had covered my entire bedroom wall in A4 printed pictures of mountains. It was always my dream to see the world and hang out in the mountains, and here I am… covered in goose bumps, taking my first shower in five days while I gaze at the incredible view, a real-life snapshot of a landscape that could’ve been on my wall.

The hike was supposed to take at least twelve days, but we ended up finishing it in just eight. I would have been happy to keep going for even longer, but I had to rush back to Kathmandu to give my passport to the Chinese embassy for my visa to be approved in time. The group kept going on another hike, and sadly, I had to make the journey back on my own. There were some issues with flights and landslides, so I had to take two twelve-hour public buses. Times like this, I reach into my toolbox and pull out mental techniques to get me through. I often think of Vipassana and that if I could sit for 10 days meditating, I could most definitely survive a long bus ride. I sat for almost the entire drive with my backpack on my lap, staring out the window as the man next to me constantly harassed me. He kept poking my arm in an attempt to make conversation, asking me question after question as I ignored him. He facetimed multiple people, showing them that he was sitting next to me, and then, when he finally gave up, he searched on TikTok “girls walking up stairs in leggings” and watched that for the next hour. Times like this, it sucks being a woman, stuck on a bus with no one to help me and nowhere to go. I was so exhausted from hiking that I didn’t even really care too much; I just sat staring out the window pretending that he didn’t exist.

I’m so glad that I made the spontaneous decision to go back to Nepal. I feel so grateful, and I know this story won’t be the last.

Nepal

May 2024

One of the reasons I love travelling alone is the freedom to be spontaneous. On the train, I quickly booked a place to stay for the night, and that was the extent of my planning. Still, travelling through China without knowing the language was exhausting, and at times I wished I had someone with me to share the mental load of translating and navigating with limited internet access. Yet, China easily wins the award for having the kindest people. Everywhere I went, locals would stop to ask if I needed help, and more often than not, when I asked to pay the bill after a meal, the server would tell me that someone else in the restaurant had already covered it. I was constantly greeted with smiling faces and treated like a celebrity getting stopped for photos. My blonde hair would draw plenty of attention, sometimes a little more than I wanted. What happened next tested me: was this another example of China’s kindness, or was I about to get myself into trouble?

After a few hours on the train, I arrive at a police checkpoint, and the policeman is pointing at me, calling out my name before I have even opened my mouth. A wave of panic comes over me, how does he know my name? The policeman translates to me that he wants my passport to check my visa. Without saying a word, I hold up the visa page. He ushers me to follow him, and I immediately pull up the map on my phone. I realise that he is walking me to my accommodation... but how does he know where I’m staying? I still haven’t said a word. The reception desk is unmanned, so he reaches behind the desk and grabs a key, and then points to the stairs and begins to walk away. I checked myself into the room and then stood there thinking, ‘what the fuck just happened?’ Later, the owner tells me that the policeman is his brother and he had asked him to assist me as he knew I needed to pass through the police checkpoint to reach the accommodation. Turns out I had nothing to fear, China once again wins the award of having the kindest people.

I settled in and then went for a walk with my camera, to my surprise this place was just as beautiful as the video I had seen on Instagram, actually, maybe it was even more beautiful in person. I spent the whole day wandering around taking photos but I knew the village was famous for the spectacular lights at night so I found a resturant with a perfect view of the waterfall and sat alone to have dinner. I was feeling content but for the first time in months… I thought to myself, ‘It would be really nice to have someone to share this moment with.’ I was sitting looking out over the most magical landscape but I have had more fun crying laughing with my friends in a supermarket. This reminded me that its not about where you are but who you’re with.

At this point, it had been more than a week since seeing another foreigner or speaking English, so I was feeling quite lonely. The rest of my travells I had been able to make friends super easily, I had been travellig alone for 9 months but I had never really been alone. A wave of emotions hit me, and I wanted to leave China. I wanted to go somewhere I had friends. So for the first time, I decided to put aside my spontenaity and travel with a plan. I didn’t want to waste my time in China, so I mapped out two more weeks of activities and then searched my final destination on Sky Scanner: From - Xi’an. To - Anywhere. The cheapest flight was to Bali, and with one impulsive click, that’s where I went. This one decision had a huge impact on my life, but that’s a story for another day.

Travelling alone showed me just how capable I am. It’s not always easy, but I’d rather go alone than wait forever for someone else to join me.

China

June, 2024

Which brings me to the title of this blog: Art doesn’t have to be expensive. What does ‘expensive’ mean to you? To me, I think that the most expensive thing is my time and energy. Others may agree that for them, the most expensive thing is their attention (thankyou for giving me yours) or maybe it’s their health, trust, freedom, sleep and privacy. Everyone has a different definition and a different lens through which they see the world based on what they value most.

Sometimes, expensive is simply about money, but often it’s deeper, it’s about what we’re trading for it. Time for money. Freedom for money. Health for money.

Recently, I’ve had a lot of people label me as an artist. I never considered myself to be an artist, and I used to think art was creating a perfectly realistic, photo-like painting… that’s expensive. But art can be anything; art is an expression. I was reminded of this when I was playing at the beach. I was creating a small sculpture out of some rocks and shells when 6 young girls came over and started watching me. Slowly, they started to help by running back and forth carrying shells. Then they would patiently wait for my approval that the shell they picked was one I wanted to add to my sculpture. The kids then decided to start creating their own art, and I was in awe of their creativity and these cute creations that were coming to life.

I noticed how effortless it was for these kids to create. We weren’t working with expensive paints or materials, just using the world around us. Nothing fancy, just sand, rocks and shells. This kind of art doesn’t cost money, but it does ask for presence, time and a willingness to see beauty in the ordinary. That’s the richest kind of art there is.

Amed, Bali

June 2025

“I’ll give it to my friend, he’s coming to Bali and can give it to you tomorrow”, he messaged. With sweaty palms, I texted back, ‘sounds good 👍.’ When I first started travelling, I almost refused to let the guy I was buying a SIM card from take a picture of my passport, and now I’m transferring a complete stranger $2,300 and blindly trusting that his friend will bring me a lens in working order. Life just works out, and this was no different… The lens was in perfect condition, and I’ve had so much fun with it since.

One of my favourite photos using this lens is this one below:

I used to see photos like this and think they were incredible. I never thought about the behind-the-scenes of how they were taken, so let me tell you. I was travelling with the absolute essentials in a 25L backpack, including all my camera gear, which left space for maybe 4 outfits. I didn’t mind because I thought it would be a short trip, but I ended up being on the road for almost 3 months… I just had to make do with the small amount of stuff I had, and I was travelling just by bike, so the lighter the better. I packed up and drove from the South to the North of Lombok for 3 nights. My goal was to get some photos of all the different monkey species living there. I spent hours in the forest walking around, looking up into the trees, but came out empty-handed. I saw some monkeys from a distance, but they were either too far away or the shot was obscured by trees. I felt defeated that I didn’t get ‘the shot.’ After a few days, I got impatient and left to go back to the ocean… But I knew I wasn’t done. It was annoying me that I had driven the whole way and didn’t get ‘The Shot.’ So a week later, I drove all the way back…

This time I got super lucky and saw lots of monkeys straight away in the perfect spot, I finally got the shot I wanted! In doing so, it made me reflect… What makes a good photographer? Is it knowing your camera and perfecting all the settings, having all the right gear, or is it the willingness to go the extra mile? Even when it’s scary, even when it’s uncomfortable, even if it means you leave with 30 mosquito bites.

Obviously, knowing how to use your camera is important, but I think good photography comes from taking risks and the willingness to go the extra mile to ensure the photo turns out. It’s waking up at sunrise even when you don’t want to, so that you can get the good lighting, it’s the extra kilos carrying your camera on a hard hike, it’s taking a bus on a gravel road in the middle of summer with no A/C for 10 hours, it’s getting eaten alive by mosquitoes and sleeping in the jungle. That’s what makes a good photographer, and that’s how you get the best shots.

Lombok, Indonesia
June 2025

Tolle writes about how human suffering comes from being trapped in thoughts about the past or the future, and how awareness of “the now” can dissolve anxiety, pain, and ego-driven conflict. I often re-read particular sections on days that I’m feeling extra emotional, and this day, I was feeling EXTRA emotional.

“You’re so lucky,” a voice said. I looked up with a soft smile to see an older Indonesian woman passing slowly by my table.

“I am lucky,” I replied. “But why do you say that?” I said.

“You’re lucky because you can read,” she replied. “I wish I could read.”

Her words caught me off guard. I invited her to sit with me and eat dinner, but she had just eaten and was happy to sit and talk instead. She told me about her life and how she works in the rice fields, and when there is no work in the fields, she tries to sell sarongs and bracelets to tourists. She told me of the struggles to pay $25 per month in tuition for her daughter’s school. She said that all she wants in life is for her daughter to live a better life than she was able to.

I caught myself having a thought of ‘she’s just saying these things so I will give her money’ and in that moment, in that thought, I was brought back to compassion. Yes, of course she wants money! I am 26 years old, travelling to another country because I was blessed with an education, something she wasn’t lucky enough to receive and the life she wants her daughter to be able to have. It’s easy for me to give money, but it feels like patching cracks in the surface instead of helping towards the root cause to create a more sustainable system. I can give her the cost of a month’s tuition, but what does that change in the long run?

She told me that she never wants her daughter to be one of the kids on the street selling things to help her, but during my travels, I’ve sadly met many children working on the streets to help their parents. A separate night, I hung out with some local kids selling bracelets. I let them play with my camera for an hour or so, and it was nice to see the kids just being kids. These kids often stay out late at night around the bars, hoping to get money from drunk tourists. Can you imagine that being your childhood!? left completely on your own, the weight of your family’s struggles on your shoulders.

The conversation with the older lady lingered with me long after she left. I kept thinking about the strange contrast: how I had been sitting there with a book on presence, trying to “be in the now,” while she was living a life where the now was inescapable. No planning five years ahead, just the next day’s work, the next day’s meal, the next month’s payment for her daughter’s education.

Maybe my role isn’t to solve the problem, but to hold up a mirror to it. To share stories in a way that makes others pause, notice, and care. To use my camera and my words as a bridge between worlds, connecting people who might never otherwise meet.

Lombok - June 2025