Fractured Light and Found Meaning: Reflecting on the Kaleidoscope Exhibition
Group exhibitions have a way of pulling threads together—individual visions woven into a collective narrative. Kaleidoscope, hosted by Three Edge Gallery, asked artists to reflect on fractured light, shifting perspectives, and the fragmented beauty of seeing things differently.
When I received the invitation, the theme immediately resonated. 'Kaleidoscope' speaks to transformation, to chaos made beautiful, and to the way our perceptions fracture and reform. Photography, in its essence, captures these very shifts—light bending, stories shifting, and fragments becoming whole. And in many ways, this theme echoed how I was feeling creatively—trying to find my footing after a period of disillusionment and burnout.
For this show, I contributed two deeply personal works: All Court Up and Useless Loop—each award-winning, but created for very different reasons.
All Court Up began as a conceptual exploration of identity, expectation, and performance. It was created during a time when I felt boxed in by external pressures—pressures to succeed, to stay visible, to play a part. Much like the figure in the image, I felt trapped inside an invisible game. Shot from above, the tennis court becomes both a stage and a cell. Winning the 2023 Australian Emerging Photographer Award (Art category) was a surreal moment—not because of the recognition, but because this image came from a place of such vulnerability. To have it received that way reminded me that honesty has power.
All Court Up is a visual deconstruction of sport as spatial performance—a series that views sporting courts from an aerial perspective to reveal their unexpected elegance. This project abstracts the architecture of play, lifting it out of its functional context and into the realm of the surreal.
Through minimalist compositions and strategic moments of isolation, each image invites the viewer to question their relationship to space, movement, and routine. The absence of players sharpens the focus on line, colour, balance, and symmetry—recasting these public spaces as meditative arenas of form and intention.
Blending conceptual photography with a touch of the surreal, All Court Up becomes a quiet rebellion against the fast-paced spectacle of sport. It asks: what if the game was not about action, but about design? What if the court itself was the protagonist?
This series is part of the award-winning body of work recognised in Australia's Emerging Photographer Awards, where it was celebrated for its innovation, clarity of vision, and fresh perspective on familiar urban environments
Useless Loop, by contrast, was born from stillness. Taken over the salt flats in Shark Bay, this aerial photograph is all subtle hues, delicate curves, and abstract calm. There’s a tension in the name—‘Useless’ suggests abandonment, yet the image evokes peace. That contradiction is something I return to often in my work: what is discarded may still hold beauty. Useless Loop received 4th place in the 2023 Australian Landscape Photography Awards, a quiet yet affirming nod that simplicity and restraint have their place in visual storytelling.
Hovering above Useless Loop in Shark Bay, I was struck by the surreal mosaic of shapes and colours unfolding below. This aerial perspective transforms the landscape into a geometric marvel, where human-made salt ponds harmonise with the natural palette of blues, greens, and earthy tones. The intersecting lines, soft gradients of colour, and orderly shapes blend the industrial and the organic, creating a striking tapestry that celebrates both human ingenuity and nature’s beauty. As I captured this scene, I felt a sense of awe for the delicate balance between purpose and aesthetic. It’s a view that reminds me of a painter’s canvas, where colours and shapes are carefully curated to form an artwork that’s both functional and visually captivating. Standing beside me, you would feel the enormity of this landscape and the quiet elegance hidden in its patterns, a testament to the beauty found when we look at the world from a different angle.
This image forms part of a broader series that was awarded 4th place in the prestigious Australian Landscape Photography Awards. Celebrated for its innovation, clarity of vision, and reimagining of familiar environments through an abstract lens, the series offers a fresh perspective on the intersection of human impact and natural design
Group exhibitions like Kaleidoscope invite this kind of contrast. They’re about bringing individual fragments together to form a complete vision. Every artist in the space brought their interpretation of ‘fractured beauty,’ and standing in the gallery on opening night, you could feel the electricity of those connections. It was moving to see how diverse practices—across mediums, formats, and visual languages—could still resonate in shared space.
Working to a theme stretches you. It demands that you ask deeper questions of your work: not just ‘What am I saying?’ but ‘Why am I saying it now, in this context?’ What surprised me most was how both All Court Up and Useless Loop, though aesthetically different, mirrored my own internal conversation—about boundaries, presence, purpose, and healing.
There’s also something uniquely powerful about seeing your images alongside others. It’s humbling. It reminds you that photography isn’t a solo act. Behind every print is a process, a risk taken, a question asked. Seeing the work in context helped me reframe my own creative path—not as a race or competition, but as a shared experience.
Being in a group show also reminds you of the power of community. It’s not just about hanging your work on a wall—it’s about showing up, listening, learning. It’s about talking with someone who sees your piece and says, “I felt that.” That kind of resonance is what keeps me going. As artists, we can spend so much time in our heads—but in a space like Kaleidoscope, we’re reminded that what we create can connect in ways we never predicted.
The creative process behind these images was not just technical. It was emotional. I wrestled with self-doubt. I questioned whether I was making anything meaningful. But the discipline of working toward a group exhibition gave me something to anchor to—a purpose beyond the algorithm, beyond awards. It brought me back to why I started photographing in the first place: to feel, to reflect, to be present.
There’s a quiet kind of courage in participating in a themed group show. You’re not just putting your image out there—you’re trusting that it has a place in a shared story. Kaleidoscope affirmed that for me. It helped me see my work through new eyes—and perhaps more importantly, it helped others see themselves in it too.
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