Walking through the city, I’m always struck by the fragments that most people overlook — a faded sign, peeling paint, rusted metal, or the way posters layer and decay on a wall. For me, these surfaces tell a story about time and place, informing the foundation of my collage practice and the spark for developing a unique visual language.
Built from fragments of my own photographs, this collage reimagines the urban wall as a constructed memory — each colour and surface borrowed from a different place, brought together to create a new composition.
Seeing Beyond the Surface
The urban environment is more than just buildings and streets; it’s a constantly changing canvas. Graffiti tags are painted over, new signs replace the old, and textures shift with weather and age. By photographing them, I capture moments of transition and then recontextualise them through collage.
Collage allows me to take these found details and rearrange them into something new. A single number pulled from a street sign, a torn edge of poster, or a splash of colour from a painted wall might become the anchor of a composition. Each piece is about balancing fragments of reality with abstraction — creating tension between what feels familiar and what is reimagined.
Developing a Personal Language
Every artist searches for their own visual vocabulary, and mine is rooted in the grit and rhythm of Melbourne’s inner north. Over time, I’ve noticed recurring motifs in my work: bold numbers, geometric forms, layered textures, and a push-pull between order and chaos. These elements become like words in my visual language, reshuffled into endless new sentences.
Developing a unique visual language doesn’t happen overnight. It comes from observing deeply, experimenting freely, and trusting that the fragments you’re drawn to have meaning. For me, the urban environment is both muse and material — a reminder that even the most ordinary walls can hold extraordinary stories.