27/05/2026
It’s 9:30am and I’m sitting here in track pants and one of my husbands old T-shirts, my hair hasn’t been brushed in two days and is currently in a not so cute bun on top of my head. There’s foam scraps all over the dining room table, wet washing hanging over chairs cause it’s been raining, and butterflies everywhere.
Last nights butterfly chaos started at 9:30pm. At 11pm I said: “ok, I should probably stop soon”
Next thing I knew it was 11:30pm.
I sat there rearranging butterfly templates cut from a newspaper for an hour trying to fit just ONE more onto the foam sheet. Mind you I’m doing this in sh*tty light due to a blown bulb.
My back hurts, my eyes go blurry, and somehow I still keep going because my brain can already see the final shoot before it exists.
This is the reality behind so many of my sessions.
Not glamorous and polished just creative mess.
People see the final images.
What they don’t see is the weeks, sometimes months that happen before the shutter even clicks. The ideas typed up in my phone notes, the mistakes, the ‘this looked better in my head’ moments lol. The props we (my amazingly talented daughter of who half the stuff I do wouldn’t be possible if I didn’t have her here to help me)
Sometimes we work at the dining room table watching a series on my phone propped up so we can both watch, making late night coffees and eating snacks, and other times we take over the loungeroom coffee table in front of the tv.
Then when things get really messy we move downstairs into the studio and chaos truly begins.
My dining room table right now has:
Dried flowers
Wire
Butterfly cutouts
Scissors
Open mail
The wet clothes over chairs.
A chewed dog toy
At least one forgotten coffee cup
Downstairs in the studio has plastic flowers everywhere. My house isn’t a show home, it’s lived in, loved in, created in, and honestly I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’m currently creating for the sweetest 1st birthday cakesmash I have booked in for the end of June.
