I live off-grid in a converted bus at the edge of a paddock in Aotearoa, New Zealand.

I make poems, objects, and small acts of ritual.
Built from scrap timber, bone, and things the world has thrown away.
Written, spoken, or carried by hand.

The work comes from memory, ancestors, and the old stories that won’t leave us alone.

I once worked in the global advertising world.
Now I sit beneath an oak tree, recording conversations with other creative souls.

This site is a gathering place for those works.

Some pieces are available for exhibition or sale.
It helps me keep making.