I've been sitting on a draft version of this post for a while now... mainly because I had no idea how I could possibly attach words to this set of images. Personal projects are something I've been desperately trying to do more of. I guess I always thought it needed to be something planned, structured and executed in a specific way to deliver a direct message. But this doesn't have to be the case with personal photo work. A project can just as easily be born from a spontaneous emotional reaction, like what happened to me on this road trip when we reached the burnt remains of some of Australia's most cherished coast line.

Our trip along the Great Ocean Road was a concentrated effort in pushing our creative boundaries... but we still had no idea what that meant, and we just hoped we'd find inspiration to create unique images along the way. We knew we'd cross this section of the road near Wye River that was completely devastated by the recent bushfires, but I had no idea how seeing it up close would make me feel. It was overwhelming sadness but mixed with a sort of calm that I find impossible to describe.

Bushfires in Australia are a real problem... and often unavoidable as many occur naturally as a part of the landscape lifecycle. But when humans are the cause.. It's a sickening reminder of how selfish, cruel and utterly disregarding of life our species can be. Every year fires destroy families, homes, history and nature. The risks of living in a fire prone area are something many Australians are willing to accept, especially when the area is a breathe taking coastal rainforest. But my hope is that people will always have the sense and presence of mind to evacuate when told to and realise that while yes, the house, possessions and heirlooms are important, they're not nearly as important as the memories they hold, and keeping them alive means keeping yourself alive.

As for these photos... I really just tried to show how I was feeling that day, whilst wandering around the charred remains, dry leaves crunching beneath my feet and sinking into the thick layer of ash on the ground. The stillness was sort of eerie, almost suffocating... and the smell, I'll never forget it. The landscape will recover and homes will be rebuilt. But for now, this dramatic site is something that I'm glad we came across... It sounds strange to admit that, but now I see bushfires and the destruction they cause in a more real way.

Oh, and thanks to the very nice young ladies we met from New Zealand who happily stood in front of my camera for these photos.