Stacey Harley uses breastmilk to capture abstract art pieces
Photographing this unique medium in abstract form, Stacey hopes to raise awareness for mothers while producing beautiful artworks for all to enjoy.
From a young age, you knew you wanted to be a photographer. Where did this inspiration came from?
My grandparents introduced me to the world of photography; my grandfather in particular was a very keen amateur photographer. I remember being very young and enjoying “slide night” at their house. We would flick through hundreds of slides of landscapes and family holidays, laughing at clothes from decades ago, how young everyone was and admiring the rural landscapes. What they captured inspired me, but landscapes have never held my interest. It was the documentary style that was captivating to me.
At age 10 I envisaged myself as a fashion photographer in London. Living in a fantastical world of colour, movement and high-end designers. I still don’t know what influenced that dream of fashion, but colour and movement still remain the core of my art.
What was your journey like into photography? Did you photograph other subjects before breastmilk?
My family were very supportive from the beginning. Mum would find photography short courses for me to participate in during school holidays. My siblings modelled for me, countless hours of posing. Dad converted the laundry into a dark room. My parents also spent so much money supporting me, I bet they wished my talents only required paint and canvas! But seriously, they all really helped me realise that photography could be more than just a hobby.
At RMIT University in Melbourne I completed a Bachelor of Applied Science (photography). I learned in my final year of high school that photography could be used in scientific applications: to aid in research, investigation, and diagnostics. That really interested me because I could support others.
My final folio and university exhibition was photomicrography. I prepared a mixture of chemicals on glass slides and photographed them at huge magnifications whilst polarising the light and creating rainbow facets. During my final year of uni I took up placement in a hospital in Melbourne. My plan had been to finish my degree and become a medical photographer. That time working in the hospital I discovered I was terrified of germs! I felt like I had come to a dead end.
While trying to figure out my path as a photographer I applied for a visual merchandising role, got it and absolutely loved it! I had come back to my love of fashion and VM in the early 2000s encouraged more creative freedom than brands allow now. My career in visual merchandising took me all over the UK and Europe and when I returned to Australia I landed a role in head office for a leading women’s fashion brand. My role required my photographic and visual merchandising skills. It was honestly the best of both worlds; I loved managing a team, supporting and communicating with stores globally, designing window displays and being part of the creative team that drove the aesthetic for the brand.
Where did the idea for photographing breastmilk come from?
I had a rough start to breastfeeding my first child. My wonderful husband tried so hard to support me but we were up against – we knew breastfeeding was part of our parenting plan but we were uninformed and unsupported. I found support through breastfeeding and parenting groups on Facebook; these knowledgeable women knew first hand what I was going through and I learnt so much. I became passionate about wanting to help other families in their breastfeeding journey, paying it forward – the way I had been supported.
Before having children I enjoyed the works of great artists like Kim Keever, Vicki Lee and Ted O’Donnell. I was an admirer of their coloured clouds. One night bathing my daughter I poured QV oil into her bath, the oil turned white and formed interesting shapes as it dispersed in the warm water. It got me wondering what would breastmilk do in water and could I capture it like the artists I had admired years ago.
“I was delighted and elated that people felt a connection to what I was creating. It gave me the confidence that I was on the right track and could make a difference in people’s lives.”
I grabbed a tall vase, expressed some milk and took photos on my phone. From there I knew it was an idea that warranted more exploration. I began sharing my images and breastmilk facts on social media. I felt a real vulnerability when I began posting, I was really unsure how my art would be received – I am aware breastfeeding stories can be very triggering for some. I was delighted and elated that people felt a connection to what I was creating. It gave me the confidence that I was on the right track and could make a difference in people’s lives. It was three years of perfecting my technique before I started commissioning breastmilk artworks. My followers are a mix of parents at different points of their breastfeeding journeys and abstract art lovers. I have been able to use my art as a way to reach a wider audience and show the beauty of breastmilk.
What is the process for photographing breastmilk and non-breastmilk pigments?
Long story short: I’m injecting colours and milk into a tank of water. What you see are pigments dancing through water. I choose to use a macro lens for two reasons. The first is it means I can shoot really close and I only require 15ml of breastmilk. Secondly, the narrow depth of field gives my images a sense of whimsy and softness, which plays to the essence of the feminine divine.
What is the process for clients to order a breastmilk or non-breastmilk commission?
Every commission starts with a conversation, usually through DMs or email. We chat about size of the final artwork, colours and framing options. From there, I can provide a quote. I keep my collectors updated throughout the whole process because the timeframe from the initial quote through to receiving the final artwork can be six or more months. I only take a limited number of commissions each quarter, so I book out quite far in advance.
With colours, I find most collectors choose colours of significance rather than coordinating with their decor. My works are so intimate and personal, especially the breastmilk shots. It’s important to choose colours that represent your journey – it’s an extraordinary chapter in your life. My artworks are an expression of love, strength, determination and resilience.
“The narrow depth of field gives my images a sense of whimsy and softness, which plays to the essence of the feminine divine.”
Can you tell us about using your art to advocate for breastfeeding?
Art is such a powerful way of connecting and conveying a message that makers are passionate about. I really think many artists subconsciously create for a cause because art is influenced by our personal experiences, our culture, the injustices we witness, or the gaps in the system where we know ourselves or others need support.
Most recently we have seen art used to support the victims of the war in the Ukraine and a little closer to home, the catastrophic floods on Australia’s east coast. Artists have been selling their art as a way to raise funds or depict what’s happening to their community to raise awareness. As I mentioned earlier, my art has been able to reach an audience beyond the breastfeeding community who come for the abstract art, and stay for the facts and lived breastfeeding experiences. I know my commissioned breastmilk art has also been a fabulous way for families to start conversations around breastmilk and feeding when guests ask about their artwork.
“I have learnt to ride the ebbs and flows that come with being an artist and a mother.”
Do you have any advice for mothers navigating motherhood and their creativity?
In the first 12 months postpartum with each of my three children, my creativity dipped. I felt a fog, like I couldn’t articulate much beyond my children’s needs. It was an internal battle because I wanted to be more than a mother and I was losing part of my identity. Upon reflection, it was my body and mind intuitively giving me space to focus on my children in their most vulnerable stage of life.
It’s been a journey of acceptance and patience. I have learnt to ride the ebbs and flows that come with being an artist and a mother. I have taken a step back and realised I can’t do it all and nor do I need to. You have to find balance in your worlds otherwise you are in a constant state of stress – you suffer, your relationships suffer and, ultimately, your art suffers.
It’s okay re-evaluate regularly and question, “is this still working for me? Does it still serve its purpose?” My two youngest children have recently started childcare because it was unsustainable for me to be working until midnight, breastfeeding on demand through the night and then parenting all day. There is absolutely no shame in outsourcing, especially if it allows you the space you need.
Victoria, Australia
