On a 52,000-hectare sheep and cattle station, grazier Bodie Hill sits in a corrugated iron shed, sanding steel under a fluorescent light.
Crates of local timber surround his workstation, and handle-less knives hang from the walls.
Unfinished knives hang from the wall of Bodie's workshop. (ABC Broken Hill: Em Jensen)
Outside, low-lying shrubs grow from the dirt of his isolated property, which is more than 400 kilometres from the nearest major town of Broken Hill.
Out here, near where the Queensland, South Australia and New South Wales borders meet, the quiet is broken only by the wind, the stock, and the whine of the grinder.
Hand-making knives is time-consuming and physically gruelling.
For Bodie, it is meditative.
Grazier Bodie Hill polishes and grinds steel from a large workshop on his remote station. (ABC Broken Hill: Em Jensen)
"For me, being on the land, it's so easy to get caught up in property stuff; there's always something to do. To have a hobby or skill that you can actually sit and do; I just think it's a really great thing for mental health," he said.
A fierce advocate for mental health, particularly among isolated men, Bodie knows he needs to look after himself and actively seeks things that give him time to sit with his thoughts when he isn't tending stock or doing station chores.
"I think the combination of working with metal, woodworking and leatherwork, and just the peace of mind I get, it's actually great for mental clarity," he said.
A knife lost, a new love found
Bodie has been making knives since he was a kid, but he only recently became "half serious" about it after making one to replace a lost pocket knife.
This sparked a love for the slow and intentional process.
Every knife is handmade, meaning no two are alike, and it can take days to finish just one.
Bodie's workshop is a place he allows his mind to be consumed by the slow art. (ABC Broken Hill: Em Jensen)
Bodie says his parents, with their own artisan skills, always encouraged him to try new projects and hobbies.
"Dad's a saddler and whip maker, so he was always creative," he said.
"Mum's an amazing quilter and patch worker. So, it was a very creative family."
Crafted from the roots of the station
Much of the finished product is from outside the shed.
Around the remote property, Bodie collects beefwood, mulga and rosewood, seeing their potential for knife handles.
Bodie holds a piece of locally sourced timber, which he will use to make knife handles. (ABC Broken Hill: Em Jensen)
"The majority of my knives are made from local products that I've milled from here," he said.
"In Australia we're blessed to have some amazing timbers. They're hard and dense so they stand up well as knife handles."
Sometimes he hauls home timber he found that would otherwise go to waste.
"We've got some amazing gidgee. [I got some] from the side of the road when they put the bitumen in at Mount Poole Station and bulldozed," Bodie said.
Demand for designs
While Bodie doesn't make knives full time, he has months' worth of custom orders booked in.
"The response has been huge," he said.
One of the handmade knives Bodie is working on. (ABC Broken Hill: Em Jensen)
"I'm nearly booked up until March, so I've actually had to stop taking orders."
Bodie said a growing community of bladesmiths existed around Australia, but making one from start to finish was still somewhat of a lost art.
"There's a certain craftsmanship of being able to create something from raw products and really put your heart and soul into it,"
he said.
Back inside the shed, he sits by the grinder, a piece of steel in one hand and a polishing cloth in the other.
Just for a while, he allows all the usual station jobs to wait as he enjoys letting his mind clear and feel a sense of calm while his hands make his next piece of bespoke artistry.