This one meant a lot to me. A Regent Honeyeater, tattooed on Kelsey’s hand. There are only around 300 of these birds left in the wild. They’re small, fragile, unmistakably beautiful and disappearing. I’ve been lucky enough to photograph Regent Honeyeaters in real life, and until you stand in front of something that rare, you don’t fully understand what endangerment actually means. It’s not a statistic. It’s a presence. A life. Something so unique that when it’s gone, nothing replaces it. What struck me most is how quietly it happens. How a species can be forgotten, lose its place in the world, and slowly vanish without noise, without outrage, sometimes without anyone even noticing. To exist, to be this beautiful, and still fade away feels deeply human, and deeply tragic. To physically look something in the eye, who’s species you could literally fit in one room is a profoundly powerful experience. One ill never forget. Tattoos like this matter to me because they’re more than images. They’re vessels. A way for something rare to live on, to be seen, to be remembered at least for the lifetime of the person who carries it. If I can help preserve the essence of a creature like this through my work, if it sparks even a moment of awareness or reverence, I’ll keep doing it. For Kelsey. For the birds. For anything living and for the things that still deserve to be protected. 🍃