I’m so sorry — in my earlier invitation, I gave you the wrong address for the Stillness exhibition. Here’s the correct (and very beautiful) location where I’d love to welcome you: Studio on Brunswick Shop 2 California Lane, off 22 McLachlan Street, New Farm
Yes, it’s a different street — but the same promise of stillness, soul, and connection.
The exhibition opens at 5:30pm on Saturday 12 July, and I’d be absolutely delighted to see you there.
Stillness is a collection of mixed media artworks and poetry created during a time of deep personal transformation. Each piece is an invitation to pause, breathe, and reconnect — with yourself, with beauty, with quiet truth.
Come for the art, stay for some bubbles and the company. Let’s share a moment of presence together.
You are warmly invited to the opening of the Stillness art exhibition. A collection of creative mixed media art and poetry, which emerged from a profoundly challenging chapter in my life. In the midst of turmoil, I turned to my enduring sanctuaries: writing and painting. These practices helped navigate a personal labyrinth of discomfort, transformation and learning. Supported by a circle of fellow artists, I embarked on a journey that culminated in these Stillness works.
The essence of stillness lies in its ability to invite presence, evoke introspection, and suspend a moment in time. Where movement demands energy and attention, stillness holds a quiet power. It creates space to pause, breathe, and connect on a deeper emotional level. Through minimalism, subdued colour palettes, gentle lines, and an open mind, these works seek to evoke silence, solitude, and transcendence.
Stillness in art is not the absence of life, but rather a distilled concentration of it. An invitation to hear what is unspoken, to feel what cannot be rushed, and to experience the sacred within the quiet.
Please join me at 5:30pm on Saturday 12 July at Studio Brunswick, 1/374 Brunswick Street, Fortitude Valley.
A gripping tale of adventure, passion, and generational healing which takes readers on a spellbinding journey through time that begs the question: If you could go back in time, what would you change?
The Letters blends commercial fiction with speculative historical fiction against the backdrop of war and resilience. This compelling story explores the intricate connections between three generations, the secrets of the past, and the enduring bond between Australia and France.
When rebellious Ruby is bequeathed her late grandfather’s personal letters, she is pulled from peacetime 1973 Australia, to 1917 World War I France. Without identification or any way home, she sets out to right a wrong that has broken her family for generations. Ruby meets a resistance fighter, Henri, and finds a love that transcends the boundaries of time, drawing Ruby from the security of her century to the dangers of his. And as they navigate a dangerous terrain, Ruby is torn between the love of this mysterious hero, and the life she left behind.
Writing your first book is hard. Not hard in a you might not make it way, hard in a personal growth way. It stretches you. It teaches you. It invites you to show up, over and over again, even when it’s messy or unclear. That’s something to be proud of. There’s no point in looking back with regret and wishing you did it differently.
Your first draft won’t be perfect. Your tenth might not be either. But every version, every attempt, every quiet moment you spend trying to get the words right is part of the journey. Those messy drafts, the constant second-guessing, the moments where your confidence disappears completely? That’s all normal. It’s part of the process. Every author you admire has been exactly where you are. In fact, many of them have been there with every single book they write.
Every stumble, every deleted page, every, What am I even doing? moment is completely normal. In fact, it’s to be expected. That’s how writing works. That’s how writers are made. You’re not off track, you’re exactly where you should be.
Now’s the time to regroup. Pause. Take a breath. Look at how far you’ve already come. You’ve built something. Maybe it’s a little crooked. Maybe it needs a stronger foundation or a fresh coat of paint. That’s okay. Now you get to revise, refine, reimagine, and craft your book.
You have tools now. You’ve got feedback, insights, ideas. You’ve got instincts that are sharper than they were before. Trust them. Go back to your manuscript with a clear heart and look at it with fresh eyes. Read every line not with judgment, but with curiosity. Ask yourself, “How can this be even truer?” Not more polished. Not more literary. Just more you.
Ask yourself not, “Is this perfect?” but “Is this true to the heart of what I’m trying to say?” Every line doesn’t need to sparkle, it just needs to work. You don’t need to impress anyone. Aim for honesty, clarity, and connection. You just need to finish what you started, in your own voice, in your own way.
Because this isn’t just about finishing a book. It’s about becoming a writer.
And becoming a writer means learning how to stay the course. How to bounce back. How to work through uncertainty. Writing a book is more than just telling a story. It’s about learning how to show up even when it’s hard. It means trusting that every draft matters, even the messy ones. It means falling down and getting back up, again and again. It means embracing the long game, and celebrating the small wins along the way. So if you’re doing that? Then let me be clear, you already are a writer—building something bold, one brave word at a time.
I’ve been conducting a series of Writer’s Workshops, focusing on the art of crafting compelling narratives. I help writers construct their words and meaning into easy-to-read, elegant words and sentences. Many writers believe their work is complete after three or four drafts, but true refinement often begins at this stage. Diligent crafting is essential to elevating a manuscript to its highest potential.
Recently, I collaborated with my publishing editor on my latest book, The Letters. Over the past decade, this project has undergone numerous rewrites, and restructurings, including twenty edits. Even after this extensive process, my editor identified areas for improvement.
