I find myself in the autumn of my life, a season of harvesting.

Looking back, I can see a thread running through everything I have experienced and offered: a devotion to listening for what wants to be remembered and creating spaces where people can find their own voice, belonging, and wisdom.

My early years were spent working in creative arts and community cultural development, alongside young people and marginalised communities whose stories were often overlooked and unheard. Through creativity, storytelling, and collective expression, I witnessed the transformative power of being truly seen and heard.

That work later found its way into local government and not-for-profit social enterprise, but some of my deepest learning and discovery has taken place much closer to home.

For the past eighteen years I have been a mother, and a stepmother for twenty-five. While raising children, I have gathered community in living rooms, playgrounds, beside creeks, parks, on mountain tops, in temples, around campfires and circles. I have facilitated playgroups, supported mothers, trained and worked as a birth doula, held women's circles and rites of passage and tended small but meaningful acts of connection and belonging with the people in the neighbourhoods and communities in which I have lived.

Only recently have I begun to recognise that mothering itself has been one of my greatest spiritual practices.

The others have been my apprenticeship with grief and menstrual cycle awareness.

Together, they have taught me about love and life’s mysteries, rhythm and surrender, wonder and magic, grief and renewal, and the deep intelligence of the body.

Today, I express these learnings through poetry, music, art, writing, ritual and community education. Much of my work explores two experiences that have been pushed to the margins of modern life, the Forgotten Rites of grief and menstruation. Both essential human experiences and companions. Both ask me to slow down, pay attention and remember my place and entanglement within the larger cycles of life.

Alongside these offerings, I support my family’s business as an administrator, contributing to work that helps address local and global food waste and food insecurity. While it may seem a different path, I recognise the same thread running through it: community, equality, and a commitment to what sustains life. This work also provides the grounding and spaciousness that allows me to keep my sacred work, sacred. I am truly grateful for this privilege.

I also come from a long lineage of rose growers. I am, in many ways, still very much an devoted trainee.

Tending roses has become another place of worship. The garden my chapel. Working with soil and seasons, patience, trust and beauty, the rose has become both a teacher and a companion, quietly shaping how I choose to move through the world. All the photos of roses on my website are from my garden- I hope they bring you as much awe and joy as they do for me.

My art and poetry often speaks through the language of Woman, Mother, She, Her, and the sacred female body. These are the doorways through which I have come to understand the Mysteries of creation and becoming, belonging and embodiment. While women's experiences and cyclical wisdom sit at the heart of my work, I welcome all people of many identities, experiences and expressions who feel resonance with these explorations.

I am drawn to the Deep Feminine Current - the creative pulse of life itself, to what lives beneath the surface of things, to the bones, to the soil, to the deep time wisdom held in the body, the Earth and the Stars, the Moon, my feathered kin, our stories and our ancestors.

I remain an apprentice to this big, beautiful, onerous and wonderous life.

Everything I share is an offering from a place of curiosity and remembrance, of devotion and a deepening appreciation for life's mysteries.

A piece of art. A poem.
A song.
A conversation.
A circle.
A ritual.

A small candle lit in remembrance of what is Holy.

If my work offers anything, I hope it is an invitation to remember what has always been sacred to you.

Welcome to my Alter. I am so glad you are here .