The first issue of my zines is officially out in the world. The theme for this inaugural instalment was Moss, and it’s roughly about roots, migrating, belonging and longing.
I took some photos before these ones made their way to their respective homes. They don’t show every page or every photograph or piece of writing inside - I’m keeping some things just for patrons - but here they are:

This issue was hand stitched with dull green thread, to match the title theme, seen here in the centerfold. I love the stitching process, even if I slipped the needle under my fingernails a few too many times for comfort. It makes it seem so much more personal.

All patron copies of the zines are hand stamped with this little thank you in the back, and, of course, postcards and stickers and handwritten notes for higher tiers as well.

If you want to read this issue and subscribe to the next one, sign up for the patreon here:

thank you!

Patreon for Art Photography Zines

hi! this is a little post about my new patreon page.
this patreon is the home of a long-term project i’m working on: an ongoing series of art photography zines.
each one will be photographed, designed, written, and even stitched together by me, combining my work into something tangible and physical.

take a look at the video above to learn more about the project & how the patreon is going to work with it. it launched last week and i’m so, so happy with the support i’ve gotten there already. i’m unbelievably grateful and incredibly excited about this new venture — i hope some of you are too.

if you want to get your hands on the zines, or just support my art, check out:

thank you!


I just released a short art film I’ve been working on for a while. Watch it here:

I wanted to document something monotonous in a beautiful way. Central composition, flowing movement, subtle colour in a stark environment. The whole thing is set to an ambient drone piece by Mitch Welling, matching the bleak kind of beauty in the footage.

The image flickers between focused and blurred, digital and analogue, consistent colour and black and white glitches - but the actions and background remain constant.

This was filmed on multiple cameras and then relayed and filmed again multiple times. Made using 2 DSLRs, an SVHS reporter camera, a CRT monitor and an incompatible VCR player, the film mixes layers of screens and different distortions to make something fragmented within a whole.

Queer Porn Portraits in the National Art Library

My first book, Queer Porn Portraits, which I self-published this year, was bought by the National Art Library in the Victoria & Albert Museum, London.


I met a buyer at an exhibition earlier this year, and dropped off the book in person so that I could see some of their collection. It’s vast and beautiful and goes on for many more floors behind the scenes than you would imagine.
The Victoria & Albert is a design museum, so their photobook collection is focused foremost on the book as a design object rather than just the individual photographs within it. Mine is in the National Art Library’s Special Collection, where they have a growing section on LGBTQ representations which are all available to the public. If you’re interested in historic and modern photobooks on the subject, it’s a good place to spend a day.

The first edition of Queer Porn Portraits is sold out now, but if you want to go look at it an a beautiful old library, here is the place to do it. You can find the book in their public catalogue here.


Free Range Exhibition

Last month I was part of Free Range's Photography Week, at the Old Truman Brewery on Brick Lane. 

I arrived back in London with about a day to spare before we had to start setting up - building walls, painting surfaces, hanging work. The Truman Brewery is a warehouse-like blank canvas, with giant rooms you can build smaller rooms into, and I actually really enjoy this part of the show process. There's something about curating a space down to the actual physical dimensions of it, building an environment around the work, rather than making the work fit the environment. 

I'd hand printed these photographs in the darkroom, using an improvised easel made from cardboard while I projected the enlarger onto the floor, since the paper was too big for a standard setup. Then I'd suspended them with black steel ring clips - most people loved this, a few hated it, or though it wasn't professional. But I loved the physicality of it - the tension reminding me of stretched leather, the juxtaposition between light, fibrous paper and dark, heavy steel. I like handling my photographs with my fingers, actually feeling them through the process, from unspooling the film myself to develop it in a dark cupboard to handling the projections on paper under red light. This kind of hanging is an extension of that - behind a frame, they're disconnected. I wanted to celebrate the actual feel of them, the curl of the paper, all of it - not exactly an archival method, but there you go. 

The private view went so well, I was honestly overwhelmed at all the positive response the work received. Particularly when it came to praise from people I respected, like radical academics and exhibition organisers, but also the number of queer people who came up to me and told me how much they connected with the work. That's absolutely the most important thing to me - people being able to see parts of themselves mirrored in it.

I was also selected to be one of Free Range's poster artists to promote their photography week. It was pretty sick to see one of my photographs blown up in a gallery window for all of Brick Lane to see - photo with a 5ft me for scale.

Cheers to everyone at UEL, Free Range, and on the judging panel for being so supportive.

You can view the Queer Porn Portraits series here, and buy the limited edition book here.


APHE Award & Skinned Exhibition

I'm writing this from America. We just got in from a walk where we burned through the rest of my black and white 35mm film I had here, and tested how a VHS camera worked in the dark. It feels nice to create things here, it feels homey. But the point is: I'm in America. 5,000 miles and a 12 hour flight away from London. And I had some stuff happen there while I've been gone. 

Firstly, a while ago I was nominated for an award from the Association for Photography in Higher Education. I ended up being one of the three winners selected nationwide, with APHE saying that "the intensity of [the] images are a forceful tool to deliver striking content with artistic sensibility and a strong political standpoint."
Although my work is very personal and I'm making it for myself in a sense, I don't believe in making it completely isolated from context - I think the best work, when you're working with political sentiment, has to make sense in a broader contemporary conversation about what you're photographing. You have to look at what people around you are saying about it, what other artists are making about it. So it's very validating to be recognised so early on by people who have been doing this for much longer - other photographers, editors, gallerists - and have them think that it's deserving of that. All in all, I'm beyond happy to have won this. 

I was also part of Itch Collective’s Skinned:Live festival at the Camden People's Theatre, a great London venue that I've attended events at before. Although I couldn't be there in person, I met them before I left to drop off some of my prints - they're a good bunch of people. You can read a blog post they wrote about my work here


My work was part of the Dermis night of the festival, amongst other piece of photography, poetry, and performance around themes of identity and the body. I was so happy to be a part of this - identity and representation are subjects that not only mean a great deal to me, but also the subjects I photograph. How we identify with our bodies, through them, and how much of that can be seen and represented in visual mediums is something I'm always thinking about. Showcasing this relationship of the inner and outer selves is something integral to my work, and I'm always happy to placed alongside other artists who are questioning and exploring these relationships as well. 

Photograph by Jemima Young

Talking Gender Theory at The Photographer's Gallery

Anyone who's known me in my adult life would probably think it inevitable I'd end up talking about gender theory in an art gallery at some point or another. The two subjects dominate even my casual social conversation a lot of the time, and I finally got to do it in a somewhat official capacity. Well, the prophecy came true. Can this be my job? I'd like this to be my job, please. Hire me for all your art gender talk needs. 

Recently I got the opportunity to give a talk as part of a tour of The Photographer's Gallery. They gave me the choice to talk on anything in the gallery I wanted, and I'd already had my eye on one section of it - an exhibition called Under Cover: A Secret History of Cross-Dressers. In particular, I covered a section devoted to women cross-dressing in masculine clothes, a smaller part both of the exhibition and of the general public consciousness of cross-dressing. 

So, here I am, talking queer theory at one of my favourite art galleries. 


This exhibition was put together from an archive of historical photographs found from around the world, and I talked about the nature of curating found photographs, inventing context from visual and historical clues, and how much space in the sitter's stories was left up to our imagination. With a historical archive, we project so many of our current culture onto them, we have to keep in mind that the terms we use and ways we think about things are constantly changing, and were different then. Both the linguistic and social distinctions between transgender people, transsexuals and cross-dressers didn’t exist as we know them today, but we talk in modern terms, and it's interesting to try to bridge the gap there.

For all genders and to most audiences, cross-dressing implies a queerness, where it’s often linked to sexuality. Men seen to be more feminine are assumed to be gay, and women seen to be more masculine are assumed to be lesbians - practice "Mock weddings" on all-women's college campuses were banned for "barely concealed lesbianism". But although sexuality can be a large part of it, historically there have been other motivations for cross-dressing – take the early cross-dressing feminists emerging on American college campuses in the 19th century. This was seen as a way to escape restrictive gender roles, such as the European styles of the time that increasingly separated the sexes in terms of dress and silhouette. Sometimes political, sometimes comedic, and sometimes just a fashion statement, this is a different kind of escapism than what we see in the quieter, private moments of other cross dressers in the exhibition. 

Although both are escaping the confines of the restrictive gender boxes they’ve been put into, it's interesting to think about what cross-dressing in “the other direction”, if you will, implies. Historically, it has always been a social/societal benefit or privilege to be a man, and a detriment to be a woman – a restrictive gender binary which is damaging for both men and women, as well as those considering themselves to be neither, in between or both.
As a result of this binary that places one gender above others, women dressing as men were seen to be aiming too high above their station, or trying to get something they don’t deserve. The women in these photographs could be seen as trying to emulate the power and social stability that they saw men having.

On the other hand, men dressing as women were seen to be demeaning or debasing themselves – beautifying themselves into the “fairer” sex but also connecting with the “weaker” sex, whose feminine stylings are often seen as frivolous and inconsequential.
This might be part of why nowadays it’s much more common to see women in what was traditionally “men’s” dress - trousers, jeans and suits have become acceptable for everyone to wear, despite differences in fit. However, in western culture it’s still more taboo for men to wear dresses or skirts, clothing items seen as more “feminine”. 

This is a beautiful archive, and an important record of a kind of queerness we too often think of as being thoroughly modern. Thanks to The Photographer's Gallery for having me.