Japan, The Trip, The Print, The Memory
April 16, 2025.
I finally made it.
I went to the country I had always dreamed of visiting since I was a child.
And how was it?
It was amazing. I saw so many things — and the best part? I came back with a heart full of memories. Some are stored deep inside me, and others are here, on my hard drive.
Looking through the files, I realised I took over 3,000 photos. Some are great. Some are just okay. But every single one holds something — a moment, a detail, a story. And yet, most of them will remain hidden in folders, unseen and eventually forgotten.
I’m guilty of it too. I’ve stored countless images, only to let them drift into digital oblivion. But a few years ago, I began printing some of them — and it changed everything.
There’s something powerful about turning a digital memory into something you can touch. I can’t quite describe the feeling — but it’s something to admire, to hold, to keep close. To bring it into the world — to give it weight, texture, presence. There’s magic in that.
Of course, it’s not always easy. There are expectations. You want it to be perfect. You wonder if the print will do the image justice — if it’ll carry the feeling you had when you took it. The moment when the file is “ready” is always uncertain. I never really feel it is. But eventually, I trust.
And that trust has helped me grow — not just as an artist, but as a person. It’s taught me patience. And importantly, it’s taught me self-compassion. And perhaps most importantly, it’s taught me how to recognise when something is done — and when it’s time to let go and move on.
Although I can’t print every photo, I carefully choose those that don’t just look good — but feel good. The ones that bring me back to a place, a person, or a feeling.
As you’re reading this now, I’m about to open the prints from my trip to Japan. They’ve been sitting at home in their tube for three weeks, waiting patiently for me to finish this post. I’m excited — and a little nervous. That trip was full of meaning, and these photos carry all of it.
If you haven’t printed a photo in a while, give it a go. Choose one — a photo of your partner, your dog, your kids, that holiday, that moment. A memory you want to last, even when the battery dies.
And if you’re in Melbourne, talk to the team at Hound and Bone. They’re the magicians who bring my prints to life.
And who knows — maybe one of my prints could live with you too. You can always visit my shop and support the journey.
