I’m a Perth-based writer, recording artist, producer, and poet drawn to dark, layered, character-driven narratives. Creativity isn’t just something I do when I feel inspired. It’s who I am. It’s how I process the world, survive it, make sense of it, and turn experience into something I can hold in my hands. My work moves across music, poetry, story, screen, image, and instinct, always circling the same deeper questions: who are we when no one is looking and what do we become to survive, I’m drawn to material that is intimate, psychologically layered, emotionally exposed, and a little haunting. I love work that carries contradiction: darkness and tenderness, fracture and humour, beauty and discomfort, softness and sharp edges. I’m fascinated by women who are difficult to simplify, by characters who are both wounded and dangerous, and by stories that don’t offer neat answers because life rarely does. I think some of the most important moments happen in ordinary spaces, kitchens, cars, train stations, bedrooms, school halls, waiting rooms, and I’m endlessly interested in how memory and survival live inside those places long after the original moment has passed. I have what I’d call a paradoxical personality. I can be deeply intuitive and wildly imaginative, but also intense, analytical, and relentlessly reflective. Very ENFP in some ways, except with a darker interior monologue and a tendency to turn every emotional experience into art, meaning, or a line I should probably write down. I care too much, feel too much, think too much, and somehow that has become both my burden and my creative engine. A lot of my work lives in contrast. I’m interested in what is shown versus what is hidden, who people are versus who they perform, and the emotional architecture underneath the surface of things. I love atmosphere, symbolism, visual language, and the little details that make something feel lived in rather than simply described. I’m the kind of person who will chase the exact right line for far too long because I can feel the difference between something that sounds almost true and something that actually is. I work across different creative forms because one medium has never felt like enough. Music lets me feel something instantly. Writing lets me go deeper. Screen work lets me see emotional structure from the outside. Poetry lets me strip everything back to nerve. Producing lets me shape all the chaos into something tangible. To me, all of it is connected. It all comes from the same place: a need to make something layered, honest, and affecting from whatever I’ve lived, observed, carried, imagined, or survived. More than anything, I want to make work that lingers. Work that leaves a feeling behind. Work that feels honest, atmospheric, emotionally lived in, and impossible to fake. I’m here to make dark, layered, emotionally honest things because I don’t really know how to do anything any other way.