Fiona Young

I never set out to become an artist — art found me. In 2023, I began learning how to use a digital camera and was quickly drawn to still life photography. What I didn’t realise at the time was that my creative process was quietly helping me to process years of trauma, much of it rooted in caring for my teenage child during a period of severe mental health challenges.
As I began to reflect on my work, I noticed that the objects I chose carried symbolic meaning. Decaying leaves came to represent renewal and hope; broken glass vessels spoke to both fragility and resilience. Without planning it, photography became a form of therapy — a way to explore pain, love, and survival without language.
A year later, I felt compelled to share my work, in the hope that it might offer others a sense of connection and remind them of the strength within themselves — and of the healing power of unconditional love.
My still life practice now takes a distinctive approach to a traditional genre. Rather than working solely in a studio, I construct my arrangements and photograph them outdoors at night, using the natural darkness as a backdrop. This shift beyond the controlled environment allows each composition to hold deeper layers of narrative and emotion. The resulting images are raw, symbolic, and grounded in lived experience — quiet meditations on loss, love, and the beauty found in imperfection.