Dichotomy—my first solo show.
In February, I launched my first solo photography exhibition, Dichotomy, as part of the 2026 Exposure Photography Festival. I was blown away by the community’s response to this project, and the huge turnout we had on opening night.
I have included a portion of my speech from that evening below. Thank you to everyone who has ever supported me and believed in me, big and small—you’ve all played a part in who I am as a photographer today.
Photos from the show by Anna Sczcur.
"When I was around 7, I told my parents I wanted to be an artist. Just what every immigrant parent wants to hear—after their many sacrifices, their child wants to go on to have a career renowned for making very little money.
My answer, whenever they asked what I wanted to be, stayed the same, for many years. After drawing, painting and writing from a young age, I picked up one of our cameras for the first time when I was 13—and I’ve never put one down since. My parents noticed how obsessive I had become over taking photos; I started drawing less, and capturing more. Before long, everything and everyone was my muse; I’d often have friends over to “model” for me in our backyard.
To be here today, 22 years later, at the age of 35, on the eve of my first solo photography exhibition, is a moment that feels a lot like arriving. In fact, the last few years have felt a lot like arriving, and in so many ways, I feel like I have finally arrived home to myself. And there's a lot that has contributed to that, but arguably, one of the most critical factors in my ability to show up fully as myself has come down to being connected to a community in which I feel accepted, seen, safe, understood, and ultimately, loved. I can take up space here, and I feel affirmed because I see others like me who are doing the same.
I’ve always found myself in between worlds. Not Filipino enough to identify with my own culture; certainly not white enough to identify with being Australian or Canadian. As a straight-passing bisexual woman, I sometimes don’t feel queer enough for queer spaces, but I’ve known, for a long time, that I wasn’t straight. As someone who loves climbing, hiking, camping and the grit involved with being in the mountains, I don’t fit the mould of what petite Asian women are expected to be, and for someone my size, it’s surprising to learn what my body is capable of.
I don’t like putting people into boxes, because I myself have never cleanly fit into one. I exist outside the narrow representations often seen in mountain culture and outdoor sports media. DICHOTOMY features people of colour; people from the 2SLGBTQIA+ community; people who have visible and invisible disabilities; people of different religious faiths.
I created DICHOTOMY for all the others—for those of us who are judged based on our appearance, race, or gender; for those of us who are under-represented in our fields, especially in the mountains; for those of us who, in 62 countries around the world, still cannot love freely without fear of persecution, imprisonment, or even death.
Make no mistake—it may be easy for us to assume that nobody makes assumptions about anyone based on their sex or race any more. But take one look at the headlines coming from south of the border, or the current political climate across the globe, and you will know just how important this work continues to be. Art has power, it has the power to connect us to each other, to ourselves, to the world around us, and to speak on behalf of those who cannot.
From the time of conception, to co-ordination and planning, to shooting, to editing, to today, it has taken me almost 3 full years to complete this project. I completed this whilst working full-time at Rocky, running my own photography business, single-parenting an Australian Shepherd, volunteering, going through a difficult separation, tearing my ACL + managing other health issues, and navigating day-to-day life as a whole. So I think it speaks volumes to how important DICHOTOMY is to me, and just how much it means to me to finally be able to share this with you all tonight.
I have a lot of thank yous to say tonight. I cannot thank my crew and the athletes enough for giving this a go, for supporting me and understanding my vision, and bringing their absolute best to this project.
Last, but certainly not least, I need to thank my parents, Melissa and Menardo. My parents flew all the way here from Australia on Wednesday afternoon just to be here tonight. Not only do I have to thank them for my actual existence, I would not have the life I have today without the significant sacrifices they made, and for persevering through the many challenges we faced as a young immigrant family.
Thank you for being so driven to move across oceans (twice) with very little resources to provide a better life for us; we learned, through your example, how to persevere, how to be kind, how to be generous, how to talk to people, how to be grateful, how to be compassionate, and how to go after the things we are passionate about in this life.
Our grit, determination and joie de vivre is thanks to you. My parents bought me my first camera when they noticed that I literally would not stop taking photos; my mother was the one that taught me how to use it; I would be nothing today without you. I have so much of the best of both of you in me, and I could not be prouder to be your firstborn child. I hope that seeing your three children thrive across Canada, England and Australia has made all our years of hardship worth it.”
