This is the video I’m not posting this week. I’m sharing it here with you Vizzy D’s instead. Because sometimes visibility work is also about: knowing thyself. I’ve had a barrage lately of angry DMs from funeral directors, full of accusations, assumptions and some fairly wild interpretations of what I’m doing. And honestly? It triggered me. And swung my Taurean passive-aggression into full swing… 🐂😂 Some of my anger was warranted. But after making this video, I realised I was about to do something I often encourage you guys NOT to do: Create content for the people who are annoying you. 😅 So I slept on it. I shared my frustration with some trusted peers & friends. And they helped me realign where I wanted to put my energy. Because the people I’m really here to speak to aren’t the people I’m arguing with in my head. They’re the families who need to know what kind of person I am. They’re the peers who are looking for a different way of doing things. They’re the people who might see one of my posts and think: “Oh. I think I’d like to work with her.” 🐦‍⬛ We talk about this a lot in the Social Reels Masterclass, but your social media is your shopfront window. And families, colleagues and potential collaborators are looking through that window all the time. So this week, I want you to notice: Who are you actually speaking to? And perhaps more importantly: Who have you accidentally started creating content for? The person who criticised you? The competitor who gets under your skin? The colleague who disagrees with you? The imaginary person you’re trying to prove something to? Or the people you actually want to reach? 🐦‍⬛ YOUR VISIBLE FRIDAY PROMPT Think of something you’ve posted recently, or wanted to post, and ask: Who was I really speaking to? Then ask: If the person I most want to work with walked into my shopfront window right now, would this content tell them something useful about me? And finally: What would I create if I stopped trying to prove something and started trying to connect?

Hi Vizzy D’s, Writing to you today from Kabi Kabi Country on the Sunshine Coast, Queensland. I’ve been immersed this week in Artlands, Australia’s biggest gathering of regional creative practitioners. It’s part symposium, part think tank, part workshop. A big, beautiful gathering of artists, cultural workers, First Nations knowledge holders, thinkers, policymakers and collaborators asking some pretty big questions about the role of creative practice. And I’ve found myself thinking a LOT about death care. Because what if creativity isn’t just something we bring TO death care? What if creativity is one of the ways we actually change it? Whilst I have an Arts degree and have worn many creative hats over the years, it’s clear to me now that my current creative practice is death. It’s what I pour my heart and imagination into: funeral ceremony, participatory rituals, designing experiences that help people navigate grief, belonging and the enormous liminal space between what was and what comes next. Even the punish of creating social media content - it’s all part of thinking about death care in creative ways. And the more I work in this space, the more I see that we’re not just talking about designing better funerals. We’re talking about systems. A funeral industry built around particular assumptions about who holds the knowledge, who makes the decisions, what a funeral looks like, what a family’s role is, what happens to a body, where grief belongs and how much participation we’re allowed. And systems are notoriously good at reproducing themselves. So if we want something different, we need to be able to imagine something different first. And that’s where creativity comes in. Artists have always been pretty good at asking: What if? What if the family held the ceremony? What if a funeral could happen somewhere other than a chapel? What if children were welcomed into the ritual? What if the coffin was made by the community? What if grief was something we made space for rather than something we tried to move people through?