Emma Daisy
Silver Birch
Edition 1/3
16 x 20 inch
Printed on Hahnemühle Fine Art
$145 AUD
Includes GST & postage within Australia
Bio
Emma Daisy is a Photographer, Artist, and Digitisation Operator.
Originally from a small town in rural Western Australia, she spent the past 10 years working in the creative community and cultural heritage sector in Boorloo / Perth.
As a professional photographer she specialises in portraiture with musicians, creatives and families, approaching all briefs balancing creativity, a passion for process, and her unique point of view, with the required message for the client.
As an artist she creates across a variety of mediums with particular interest in analogue photography, video, audio, printing techniques, multiple exposure and solvent transfer. Her practice involves traditional image making techniques adapted for contemporary meaning making to reflect on the personal, internal experiences situated within broader sociological and geographical realities. Within her work is a de-colonial and environmental undertone, imbued within conventions tending towards softness, femininity and noticing magic in the everyday. Her photographs rely on finding truth and beauty in domesticity, ripples of lineage and small moments of connection.
Emma is currently based in The Netherlands developing creative projects and taking time to reflect on what it means to make digital imagery in 2025.
Statement
The maybe unexpected fact is I come from farmers
My mother's love language is 'I've set the fire places',
And she has never been able to go for a walk outside without gathering a collection of sticks to burn, or a handful of weeds from literally anyone’s garden.
This is what I learnt about how to be a woman. Tethered to nature.
It’s an interesting thing to navigate grief with a group of people for whom emotions are dealt with by clearing throat and looking far away before hurtling back in to work, scraping together a 4 metre high bonfire.
It’s curious and strange to see my mother interact with her own softness
I’ve never seen her still.
Sitting with her father as he died over three days and then sitting with his body for a morning was the longest she has been still in 35 years.
And I don’t really know what it means for me, losing someone who never really understood me but who created me, who loved me even though I might have seemed like a strange creature to him.
But maybe he sees me now collecting sticks to burn from the roadside at night again, with this big dog on a chain to protect me.
On the inside I am his and have been all along.
I took this photo when I was home for his funeral, at the community gardens. A place so quaint and overgrown, he probably hated it there.
