It’s taken me a long time to recognise it openly. Admitting it feels like a confession of sorts, as if by acknowledging this part of myself, I’m stepping into an identity I once saw as distant, even forbidden. I think much of my hesitation comes from my past relationship, where “writer” felt like a title that belonged to someone else, someone close to me. I didn’t want to appropriate what felt so integral to him, as if writing was somehow a limited resource, reserved for a chosen few. It was as though I had drawn an invisible line, telling myself that being a writer was something only certain people could rightfully claim, and I was not one of them.

In Between Spaces is a made-up exhibition with a collection of black-and-white film photographs exploring the quiet beauty of Sydney and Singapore. These images capture fleeting moments of urban life, revealing intimacy amidst distance and transforming the mundane into the mysterious. A meditative journey through light and shadow, In Between Spaces invites you to slow down and contemplate the spaces between.

I was never good at following through my own promises. I begin with energy, with brilliance even, striking out with the promise of something well-founded. But somewhere along the line, the effort dissipates.

So, I find myself asking: why does this space lag behind? Where are the experts who are meant to examine these innovations critically, to expand the research and build a body of knowledge that straddles both counselling and tech?

There’s something there—a richness in the process of self-reflection—that could deepen our understanding of how counsellors can better integrate technology into their practice. I’ll need to work through the theoretical underpinnings carefully, but I feel a sense of momentum here.

How does it feel to watch one's self-esteem erode slowly, I thought. Especially for those who had previously navigated life with unwavering certainty and success?

It’s a strange feeling, but it happens often. I would end up typing a few words, perhaps a thought, or a memory, some form of input, or maybe even a compliment - a few words in but then suddenly I’m left feeling scared, wondering about how they might respond, querstioning the legitimacy of my own inputs, and thinking about how this adds value to the conversation.

Here I was, reminiscing a show about adolescent dread and finding a second family, and finding myself transported into the complex world of cryptocurrency, and the narratives of economic fluctuation. A pair of contrasts that had nothing to do with each other, not a similarity in sight or etched in between, a monochromatic but definitive black and white shade that never wanted to mix. I guess you never know where you'll end up.