Architectural living in New Zealand, Australia and beyond.

Where we come from relates to our sense of the world.

The places where we have been.

It is fair to say that I grew up on the set of The Days of Our Lives. My home and my back yard were in a brand new suburb called Conifer Grove in South Auckland, New Zealand.

Built on flat, ex-racehorse land and crop farms on an inlet deep in the Manukau Harbour. It was cul-de-sac book ending cul-de-sac, each named after an old racehorse.

The best memory from high school was a teacher who showed me how to see the world with a camera. This made a lasting impression and I gradually started imagining what it might be like to be a photographer.

I became that reality. Seizing the opportunity to photograph racing yachts, riding waves, capturing moments of speed and emotion.

Now my practice as a photographer has morphed into one of sitting still and seizing moments.

Glimpses into and out of an existence: subtle gestures, brief encounters.

When photographing architecture for the first time, my initial priority is how it feels.

What a space looks like is secondary.

It’s a cool evening spent in front of a warm fire.

It’s the smell of old paint peeling from big gestures of concrete forms.

The expansion of a full room.

The compression of an empty space.

My life stories and experiences are an essential part of my photography equipment.

This, together with the environment in which I find myself, is precisely what informs the unique sense of place I feel.