Image credit: Jeff Sheldon

History of Artistic Practise

At the heart of my work is a fascination the things that people don’t say, the complexity of human beings, and the desire to reinstate vulnerability in us. Against a changing landscape, my work seeks to explore contemporary issues, such as connection, relationships, love and loneliness. 

Novels in Development

Not Enough – This novel explores the messages we take from the family home and how they distort our understanding about who we are. It is a timely work given the increasing pressures of social media to be perfect in every given moment - super-human. And relatedly, how love and relationships have become more elusive than ever. 

Ego, Actually - A narcissist mets a young women whose family dynamics make her easy prey, and so begins her journey from near destruction back to self. Family dymanics are powerful and often hard to disentangle.

On a Plate - The story of a girl who rejects a sexualised culture in her quest to define the world on her own terms, with respect, equality and visibility. 


Genre: Creative Fiction.



Junkyard Sessions - the license to write without editing, and to unravel a thought, a moment, an idea... 


Excerpt (from The Junkyard Sessions - writing without caution)

In the adjoining room a photograph of my father with my brother sits on a small coffee table. He peers out, exhibiting a mix of emotions: pride (always where his sons are concerned), discomfort at being close to another human being, and restlessness. Glad when the moment is over and he can go back to his cage, safe from the threat of human contact. I look closely at the image. I discern a stiffening of his body inwards, towards himself and away from the possibility of touch. I think of the rare occasion he reaches out; towards my mother who is most familiar to him. Even then, his movements mechanical and awkward, serving some purpose. Estranged and disconnected from the people closest to him, he focuses upon himself, 'Is his hair alright? Should he comb it?' He looks directly at the camera and endeavours to smile appropriately for the photo; not too much so that it's ridiculous, or so little that it becomes a grimace. The photograph taken - they separate each to their own space, like so many of us fearful of any degree of emotional closeness.