why I can't stop creating and what that means for your brand.
I've had a camera in my hand for as long as I can remember.
My grandmother gave me and my sister disposable film cameras when we were about seven. She'd take the film to be developed for us, and we'd wait impatiently for those prints to come back. I was hooked. By the time my mum bought me my first proper film camera, photography had already stopped being a hobby and started becoming something else entirely, a way of seeing the world, I suppose.
Fast forward through my GCSEs (where I learned to develop black and white film in a darkroom), through university (shooting on large format slide film, which teaches you patience like nothing else), and suddenly I'm in London in 2011, working as a catalogue photographer for a high-end auction house.
The London Years: Where Precision Met Creativity
That auction house job was formative in ways I didn't fully appreciate at the time. You're photographing everything from Victorian furniture to contemporary art pieces, and there's no margin for error. The catalogue has to be perfect. The colour has to be accurate. The composition has to showcase the piece truthfully while making it sing on the page.
It's commercial photography at its most exacting, and I loved it. But Kraig and I (we'd been together since 2013) wanted to see the world. The 2.5 hour commute was the only thing about the auction house I'll never miss. So we did what any sensible couple does, we quit our jobs and started traveling.
The Long Road to New Zealand
We bought a campervan 3 days in to Australia, Maurice, a pre-built 1990s pop top beauty, probably not our most sensible decision, but it turned out to be one of the best. By day 5 we were working our first Mandarin field. We lived in that van for six months while doing fruit picking work to fund the rest of our adventure.
After that, we moved to Melbourne, got a unit, and I picked up work photographing kindergarten kids. Six months later (visa rules meant you could only work for one employer for six months at a time), we moved on to Adelaide, found another unit, and I worked as a portrait photographer, then did retouching for school photographers.
When our two-year Australian visa was up, we drove the van to Perth and put it into storage. Then we left, traveling through the UK, Iceland, Scotland, Europe, and India.
Eventually, we came back to Australia on a travel visa specifically to pick up that campervan. We drove from Perth back to Adelaide (our starting point from two and a half years earlier), then shipped ourselves to New Zealand in 2018. And we never left.
Why Auckland Feels Like Home
There's something about Auckland that just works for me. You can drive thirty minutes in any direction and feel like you're on holiday. Cornwall Park on a foggy Sunday morning, the mist rolling through the trees. Shallow beach water at sunrise (or more realistically, an hour after sunrise, I'm not that disciplined on weekends). The walks, the beaches.
Even on rough weather days, there's nearly always a patch of blue sky somewhere. It's hard to have a bad day here.
My perfect Sunday starts with an early walk, coffee in a keep cup or freshly brewed at home in our machine, then tinkering in the garage on whatever project I've got going. I'm usually organising for the week ahead, working on Auckland Creative (my photography business), ticking things off my to-do list, maybe some dance fitness in the afternoon, dinner with Kraig, and a short Netflix episode before bed. I don't watch much television, to be honest, I'd rather be making something.
The Campervan, The Furniture, The Creative Itch
Building out Lionel (campervan no.2) during lockdown was one of my favourite projects. Not because it was easy (it wasn't), but because of the sense of achievement when it was finished. We'd built something functional and beautiful that gave us the freedom to explore properly.
I'm always making something, refurbishing furniture, building sets for shoots, crafting things out of paper. I can't help it. My hands need to be busy. And here's the thing: all of that translates directly into my photography work, even if clients don't realise it.
When you've physically built a campervan interior, you understand how materials interact. When you've restored vintage furniture, you know how wood grain catches light. When you've spent years shooting on film, where every frame costs money and you can't just "fix it in post," you learn to get it right in camera.
How I Approach Your Product Photography
When I'm photographing a product for a brand, my brain works in two stages. First, it's technical: what lighting setup will show this properly? What angle tells the story? How do we make sure the colour is accurate and the details are sharp?
Then it's creative. I'm visual, so I start building mood boards, gathering references, playing with colour palettes, thinking about props and styling. What does this brand feel like? What story are we telling here?
It's the same process whether I'm shooting eCommerce images for Shopify, creating hero shots for a social media campaign, or producing visuals for a billboard. The technical foundation has to be rock solid, and then the creativity can flourish on top of it.
From Auction Houses to Auckland Brands
These days, I work with local New Zealand brands to create product photography that actually performs, imagery that works across eCommerce platforms, social media, point-of-sale displays, and print.
The discipline I learned in that London auction house is still there. The colour accuracy, the composition, the attention to detail. But now it's combined with years of problem-solving on the road (you learn to be resourceful when you're shooting in a campervan in the middle of nowhere), hands-on set building experience, and a deep love for making things beautiful.
I bring all of my creative energy to your brand because, frankly, I don't know how to do it any other way.
Whether I'm photographing supplements for an eCommerce site or styling a lifestyle shoot for a beauty brand, I'm thinking about it the same way I think about building furniture or planning a road trip: what's the end goal, what's the best route to get there, and how do we make it look effortless?
Why This Matters for Your Brand
You don't need to know that I shot on large format film at university or that I built a campervan. But it matters because it means when you brief me on a product shoot, I'm not just thinking about the photograph, I'm thinking about how to make the shot happen.
Need a custom set built? I can do that.
Need someone who understands how products sit in real-world contexts because they've physically made things with their hands? That's me.
Need a photographer who's disciplined enough to get the technical stuff perfect but creative enough to make your brand stand out? I've been training for that since I was seven years old with a disposable camera.
I'm based in Auckland, I love what I do, and I can't imagine doing anything else. If you've got a product that needs to shine, whether it's for your Shopify store, your Instagram feed, or a massive billboard, let's have a coffee (I'll bring the keep cup) and talk about how we can make it happen.
Because at the end of the day, I'm just someone who loves making things. And product photography? That's just making something beautiful, one frame at a time.
