Coffee with Luke series

Lately, I’ll be honest… I’ve become a little  addicted  to ChatGPT 😅 But in the best way possible. I’ve been having so much fun creating AI-generated images using ChatGPT, and it honestly blows my mind every single time. The images look  so real  — like proper photos you’d expect to see in a frame, on social media, or even in a magazine — but the wild thing is…  they’re not real at all . That’s the magic of AI. I love how I can describe an idea in my head — a moment, a feeling, a version of myself, or even a future dream — and ChatGPT turns it into an image that feels  alive . The lighting, the expressions, the detail… sometimes I have to do a double take and remind myself:  this never actually happened . And yet, it feels real. What I enjoy most is the creativity. There are no limits. One minute I’m creating fun, playful images, the next I’m designing something meaningful — a vision, a memory, or a story I want to tell. It’s like photography, art, an...

This photo isn’t just a whiteboard filled with colour — it’s a snapshot of my heart, my hopes, and the journey I want 2026 to be about. Every word, doodle, and splash of colour represents something meaningful to me. It’s a reminder that my life isn’t about rushing or perfection, but about growth, connection, creativity, and showing up as myself. One of my biggest goals for 2026 is to try different coffee shops around Brisbane and the Gold Coast. Coffee has always been more than just a drink for me — it’s about connection, conversation, and taking a moment to slow down. Each café visit is an opportunity to explore new places, meet people, and create small moments that turn into big memories. Another dream close to my heart is a trip back to Tasmania. Tasmania will always be home. It holds my childhood memories, my roots, and a deep sense of belonging. Going back isn’t just about travel — it’s about reconnecting with where I come from and honouring the journey that’s brought me to where ...

I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, fresh out of the shower. No clothes yet. Just me, a towel nearby, the room quiet, and my thoughts louder than usual. There’s something vulnerable about this moment. When the noise stops. When there’s no phone buzzing, no expectations, no roles to play. Just breathing. Just being. Just existing in my own skin. Sometimes life feels heavy. Appointments, plans, emotions, responsibilities—things that pile up without asking permission. But right now, in this small pause, I remind myself of something important: I’m still here. Still standing. Still trying. Still learning. Still healing in ways people can’t always see. The warm water has washed away the day, at least for a moment. Not the problems, not the worries—but the tightness. The tension. The feeling of being “on” all the time. And what’s left is a quiet reminder that I don’t have to have everything figured out tonight. I can just be a person who showed up today. Some days that’s enough. Actually—most ...

Some days feel loud. Not loud like noise, but loud like thoughts. Loud like expectations. Loud like the world wanting answers, effort, smiles, and energy when all you really want is a pause button. Other days are quiet. Quiet like a warm coffee in your hands. Quiet like sitting somewhere familiar. Quiet like knowing you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone. And honestly? Both days matter. We often think the loud days are the important ones—the busy ones, the productive ones, the days where something  big happens. But the quiet days are just as powerful. They’re the days where you recharge without realising it. Where your body and mind quietly stitch themselves back together. I’ve learned that progress doesn’t always look impressive. Sometimes progress looks like getting out of bed when it’s hard. Sometimes it looks like cancelling plans without guilt. Sometimes it looks like choosing rest instead of pushing through. There’s no scoreboard for life. No one is keeping track of how...

Grab a coffee and sit with me for a moment. The photo you’re looking at isn’t a real family photo — and that matters. This image was  created using ChatGPT and AI . I took a photo of myself and asked,  “What would it look like if I had kids, a dog, and a cat?”  What you see here is the result of imagination, creativity, and technology coming together. The kids —  Emma, Liam, and Tom  — aren’t real. The family scene isn’t real. But the  idea behind it is . For me, this image represents  possibility . It’s a visual of what “my world”  could  look like one day, or simply a creative way of expressing connection, belonging, and love. It’s not about pretending — it’s about exploring, creating, and reflecting. The dog and the cat symbolise companionship, loyalty, and comfort. The kids represent growth, responsibility, and future dreams. And me standing in the middle? That’s just me — curious, creative, and using technology to tell a story in a new w...

Today I made a trip to Big W Carindale after checking online and seeing that a book I really wanted was listed as in stock. I was genuinely excited — there’s something special about going into a store, finding the book you’ve been searching for, and holding it in your hands. When I arrived, I headed straight to the book section and, sure enough, I found the book on the shelf. But unfortunately, my excitement didn’t last long. Another customer had clearly pulled the book apart. The cover was badly damaged, half ripped, the barcode on the back was torn off, and even some of the pages inside the book were ripped. It was really upsetting to see, especially knowing it was meant to be the last copy available. Books are meant to be enjoyed, respected, and shared — not destroyed. Seeing a book treated that way was disappointing, not just for me but for anyone else who might have wanted to buy it. I decided to do the right thing and approached a lovely staff member for help. She was kind, un...