I had the pleasure of serving on the 2025 Communication Arts Photography Competition jury—a fantastic opportunity to step outside my usual discipline and review photography alongside my esteemed peers. One standout moment was discovering Sacha Stej Sacha, an Auckland-based photographer represented by Image Driven Content.Her accolades include being named one of the top 200 advertising photographers globally by Lürzer’s Archive and being recognized as one of the 23 World’s Best Sport Photographers by The Agents Club in 2023. I recently had the pleasure of catching up with Sacha to discuss her award-winning image.
Your photography is known for its cinematic and powerful portrayal of women—what are the key elements you look for when capturing intensity and resilience in your subjects? When I’m gearing up to capture my subjects, there are a few key elements I always keep in mind. First and foremost, getting to know my subjects is essential. I want to know what shapes who they are. Before the shoot and even during it, I dive into conversations that reveal what makes them tick.
Once I have a sense of them, I try matching their emotional tone; if they’re fiery and passionate, I want that to jump off the frame. I aim to include a piece of who they are in every shot, whether it’s a glimmer in their eye or the way they hold themselves. I strive to create an image they can recognize, one that resonates with their energy. It’s all about connection, and that’s what I love most about photography: being able to freeze a slice of someone’s narrative, a moment of resilience and intensity, in time.
In your “Girls in Sports” campaign for 2 Degrees, you highlighted both strength and vulnerability in your subject. Can you talk about how the casting went and what direction you gave? This campaign was shot alongside a TVC, and the fantastic Director Taylor Ferguson did the casting. When I met these young women I could see that they radiated talent and spirit. For this brief, I wanted to capture that passion and grit. They don’t just play the game—they own it. I love the dichotomy between their sweet appearances and the fierce determination they display on the field – there is nothing more badass than seeing these girls in their element. Take the rugby girl, for instance. I asked her to sprint full speed towards the camera, like she was dodging the opposing team. In that moment, she transformed into a powerhouse charging at me like a freight train, the fire in her belly blazing as she zoomed closer. It was exactly the energy we were after.
How do you balance storytelling with advocacy in your visual work, particularly around gender representation? Women in sports face a harsh reality—they often get overshadowed, and it’s disheartening to see that women’s sports internationally don’t get the same spotlight as men’s. That’s why campaigns like this are so crucial; encouraging fans—especially from a young age—to rally behind these amazing athletes.
In my visual work, I find that storytelling and advocacy naturally go hand in hand—probably without me even realizing it. As a woman photographer, I’m drawn to capturing fierce, strong women because I know just how powerful we can be. In a society that often tries to box us in or undermine our strength, it’s crucial to keep that fire alive. That passion burns even brighter as a mother to a spirited young daughter. I want her to see women as capable and unafraid, sensitive and kind, just like the women I photograph.
How do you ensure your images challenge traditional portrayals, particularly of femininity and athleticism, while still maintaining authenticity and emotional depth? I’m usually guided by how I want the image to feel, especially when it comes to capturing femininity and athleticism. My images become a deep dive into an energy that connects the viewer to the subject. I want to create an atmosphere where the audience feels confronted, pulled into the frame, and unable to look away.
I find authenticity through genuine human connections, digging beyond the surface, whether I’m photographing a seasoned athlete or someone new to the sport. There’s something superhuman about athletes; they possess more than just physical strength; they embody resilience and discipline. There’s a profound sacrifice that comes with striving for excellence, and that narrative fascinates me. Each image I capture is a testament to that journey—an exploration of what it truly means to balance vulnerability and power.
Can you talk about the role visual media plays in shifting public perception and promoting equity, especially in underrepresented communities and activist movements? Photography holds a unique power in shaping public perception and promoting equity. As a visual person myself, I’ve always felt that a single image can convey emotions and stories far more effectively than words ever could. It’s the raw authenticity of a photograph that can resonate with someone’s heart, breaking down barriers and connecting us all on a fundamental level.
Through the lens of a camera, we can reveal the complexities of human nature and amplify voices that often go unheard. In this visual storytelling landscape, images become tools for change, not just documenting reality but actively reshaping how we view each other. Ultimately, photography fosters a shared humanity that can inspire action and fight against injustice. They remind us that, at our core, we are all just humans with similar desires for love, acceptance, and dignity.
Photographer, Filmmaker, and Conservationist: Florian Schulz
Heidi: We are a culture distracted by screen and cell service – is your photography and film work partially an act of resistance? Floiran: As a photographer and filmmaker, I often find myself at the intersection of creativity and technology. While social media platforms like Facebook and Instagram are undeniably powerful tools for sharing work and connecting with others, I have a complex relationship with them. On one hand, they provide valuable insights into the work of colleagues and friends, as well as access to news and thought-provoking statements. However, I also see them as significant sources of misinformation, where quantity often trumps quality, and the loudest voices can overshadow meaningful content.
In my personal life, my wife and I have made a conscious decision to limit screen time for our children. Our 9- and 13-year-olds do not have cell phones, and screens are not used for entertainment. (We do watch nature documentaries on the TV) This choice has allowed them to develop remarkable creativity and a keen awareness of the world around them. They observe how excessive screen time affects their peers, and it’s heartening to see them thrive without the constant distraction of digital media.
In this sense, my photography and filmmaking can be seen as acts of resistance against the prevailing culture of distraction. By focusing on creating meaningful, high-quality content that encourages reflection and engagement, I aim to counterbalance the fast-paced, often superficial nature of social media. My work is about capturing moments that inspire, provoke thought, and foster connection on a deeper level.
Moreover, the process of creating art without the constant influence of social media allows me to tap into my own creative potential more authentically. It enables me to explore themes and ideas that might not fit into the algorithm-driven narratives that dominate online platforms. This approach not only enriches my work but also contributes to a broader cultural dialogue that values substance over spectacle.
Ultimately, my goal is to inspire others to step back from the screens and engage with the world around them. By doing so, I hope to contribute to a shift in how we consume and interact with media, one that prioritizes depth, creativity, and genuine connection. Nature is wild and she works on her terms – how has this lack of control informed your creative work and life? Yes, nature is wild and unpredictable. That is exactly what I love about my work! This career that I have chosen is not such much of a simple job, work, a career, – it is rather the inevitable path I had to walk because of my passion for wild places, the adventure that comes with it and the desire to be in the presence of wild creatures. To do my work well, I need to be out in the wild for extended periods of times. This has always been my goal and accordingly I have chosen projects that allowed me to do this. What is beautiful about it is that one has to let go of control and especially when documenting wildlife I have to give in to a more organic approach. Sometimes when I am waiting for hours for an animal to appear or a certain behavior to show this work has a meditative element. I have to be here and now in the present. The sounds, sights, smells – the wind and weather conditions. All of it is important to take in or to capture in a series of photographs to document an ecosystem with its wildlife. I love the idea that moments and images have to “come to you”. The animals have to present themselves, that is when the good images get taken. After doing this for so many decades I also realize that it is not just the final image that counts for me – but the entire experience. As all of this takes a lot of time, we are just now at a particular crossroads. Even though I have always tried to have my family be a part of the adventure it was only possible at certain times. We are now embarking onto a new path where we are going to be exploring the wild as an entire family. We will start with some of the most exciting wild places across Alaska. From the fjords and forests of South East Alaska to the Arctic Tundra of the North or the bears coast along the Alaska peninsula.
Does all your work come with a call to action? If a photographer wanted to get started supporting a cause, what’s the best way to start? You are right that a lot of my work over the past decades has been mission driven and often included a call to action. The hope to help with the conservation of ecosystems comes across in the stories I tell through my images. As a conservation photographer, my goal is to inspire viewers to care about the natural world and its wildlife. Whether it’s documenting the majesty of wild places or highlighting the challenges faced by endangered species, my work aims to raise awareness and encourage action.
For photographers looking to support a cause, I would recommend starting by identifying what truly resonates with them. It might be a specific species, ecosystem, or environmental issue. Once you’ve found your passion, immerse yourself in learning about the topic. Collaborate with experts, such as scientists or conservationists, to gain a deeper understanding of the challenges and potential solutions.
Networking is also crucial. Join organizations like the International League of Conservation Photographers (ILCP), which I co-founded, to connect with like-minded photographers and learn from their experiences. Engage with conservation groups and consider partnering with them to amplify your message.
Lastly, use your platform to share your story. Whether through social media, exhibitions, or publications, make sure your work reaches the right audience. Remember, the power of photography lies not just in capturing stunning images but in inspiring change and motivating others to take action.
In my own journey, projects like “Freedom to Roam” or the effort to help with the permanent protection of the Arctic Refuge have shown me the impact that visual storytelling can have on conservation efforts. By sharing compelling narratives and images, photographers can play a vital role in shaping public awareness and influencing policy decisions.
What cues do you recall when your first realized your photography/filmmaking gave agency to the biodiversity and landscape, presenting the Arctic as worth protecting rather than just a barren energy resource? I believe a big reason why conservation was such a big topic for myself from early on was me growing up in Germany. In Germany and across most European countries we had lost large interconnected wild ecosystems. While we have a 1000 year old castle around the corner from where I grow up, we had lost wild places. This feeling of loss, made me cherish the big wild places across North America. Whether it was the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem where we would still find bears, bison, elk and wolves, or the wild coastlines or the Arctic where the ancient caribou herds would still roam. There was never a time where I could look at these great arctic landscapes as “barren wastelands”. The fight for the Arctic Refuge has been going on for many decades and I have been involved with the Refuge for the last 25 years. It has always been a collaborative effort to fight for the Arctic Refuge alongside the Gwich’in People and many conservation organizations. My images and film work have been a central part in a lot of these efforts and campaigns. From big live speaking tours, many magazine articles to massive signature campaigns, like during the #ProtectTheArctic campaign that inspire millions to take action. This campaign resulted in an unprecedented 6 million comments submitted to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, effectively stopping seismic testing in the Arctic Refuge. Unfortunately, the battle the Arctic Refuge and other wild places is long lasting tug of war.
What can you share about this image from your coffee table book, To The Arctic? I near a group of muskox bulls and find myself wishing for a musk ox’s coat to protect me from the weather. Their long guard hair hangs from their bodies like beautiful overcoats. Underneath, their wool is eight times warmer than the highest-quality sheep wool. I feel the gripping cold, especially on my face, where the snow crystals lash my skin like grains of sand. But I am excited about this turn in the weather. It allows me to create photographs that show a true Arctic scene, with conditions these musk oxen have to withstand many times in the course of the year. The wind becomes so intense that the animals almost disappear behind a curtain of blowing snow, their long hair rippling around them like soft cloth. I try to get close enough to capture their image before the sun dips behind the ridgeline. Dropping to my knees, I frame the scene as the last rays cast pink light on the musk oxen’s fur. Then something magical happens. Three bulls take off from the group, heading directly toward the setting sun. For an instant they are in perfect formation. The blowing snow is so thick that it makes the three bulls seem to float magically above the ground. A photograph of a lifetime-and worth everything I had to endure to get it.
Patagonia celebrated your conservation work for ANWR in their Fall catalogs (2016 and 2024) both being election years, what feels different this second time around about impacts we can make as individuals and collectives? I’m honored to have been a part of Patagonia’s conservation efforts, including their campaigns highlighting the importance of protecting the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR). The recent “Alaska Needs You” campaign underscores the urgency of our collective action. What is different today after the recent election: “ Alaska Needs You More Than Ever! “ However, it is not just about Alaska; many wild places are under threat due to a wholesale mentality of exploiting public lands and resources, which will ultimately rob future generations of their natural heritage.
The current landscape is complicated by attacks on democratic values, the environment, public lands, and marginalized communities. Misinformation is a significant obstacle, as it often misleads people into believing that exploiting public lands will benefit underprivileged Americans, when in reality, it primarily enriches corporations and billionaires.
However, I remain hopeful. There is a growing recognition of the need for collective action. By coming together as a community, we can fight against these challenges and protect our planet’s biodiversity. The power of collaboration, as seen in campaigns like “Alaska Needs You,” demonstrates that when individuals and organizations unite, we can inspire meaningful change and safeguard the future of our wild places.
One of the oil drill pads at the edge of the Arctic Refuge just west of the Canning River delta. Oil companies have pushed for opening the Arctic Refuge to the east of the Canning River for oil development. Canning River Delta, Alaskan Arctic
You’ve called Alaska home for the past 15 years, a place where mining, drilling, and extraction remain real threats to land, biodiversity, how are you thinking about your work these days? Every day we are chipping away at the last open spaces and wild lands. The current administration is doing this at a massively accelerated pace. Unfortunately, it is the same old story that is repeating itself. The main difference is, that we have less and less wilderness around us and the speed of exploitation is ever faster. What I am planning to continue to do is fight the same old fight but with different stories and from different perspectives. I personally have to pace myself and also consider my children. If I will always bring up all the critical things I see it is hard for them to be joyful. All this consciousness weighs hard on myself and that gets passed on to them. I want to let my children go and see the beauty of this planet with their curious joyful eyes. So in the coming years, that might be part of the way I will tell stories for us to protect earth for future generations. What are you working on now? I am currently putting on the finishing touches on a presentation I will give at the Patagonia Soho Store in New York City on March 19th. At the same time we are in the middle of planning multiple expeditions across Alaska. This spring we are hoping to document bears coming out of their winter dens. We will also be working in areas across the vast coastal areas of Southeast Alaska and later in the summer across Arctic Alaska. My family will be part of many of the expeditions.
Heidi: This stunning cover image intersects magic, nature, and those who respect her. – tell us the backstory around how you and Kimi met this moment? Perrin: Kimi and I were invited on a bit of a reunion trip with our good friend Edmund Jin, We had all traveled extensively for a few years together and we wanted to revisit some of our adventures. We were about 100 miles from the mouth of Isle Magdaleña. Every year there’s a sardine run that is usually met with striped marlin as the main predatory fish. But this year was a transitional year from El Niño to La Niña, and the ocean seemed to have exploded with a few different types of baitfish and millions of mahi mahi. We swam playfully into the bait balls until that mahi fish crashed into us. At one point a bull mahi caught me right below the eye and now I have the cool little scar to show from that one. Kimi was filling her spearfishing cup and preparing to bring back a bunch of Mahi for Buddy and Turk. I swam over and asked if could shoot this particular baitball. It was a different type of mackerel. This vortex of fish was just so beautifully formed. She swam up through the bait and came out with two fish one in each hand. We laughed so hard I think I drank some saltwater.
How many covers have you two collaborated on? Perrin: This is our second Patagonia cover. I think we’ve gotten close to 15 though in the outdoor space, it’s been a beautiful journey of creating, and ocean time. Patagonia Cover, 2016
BTS of their first Patagonia cover, published in 2016
Nature reigns supreme as the ultimate producer. How do you know when you got the image and not overstay your welcome? Perrin: For this particular situation I think the bait fish were actually incredibly happy to have us. The moment we would swim away the ongoing feeding frenzy would continue. I feel that with my dive buddies and best friends we have language underwater that really doesn’t rely on speaking. it’s mostly hand gestures and facial expressions and occasional underwater grouper calls (a grunting noise that can be heard underwater. As soon as I shot this image I broke the silence communication and just yelled WE GOT IT.
How did this photo come across your desk at Patgonia and ultimately make it as the coveted cover placement? Jenning: I received a text from Kimi post dive saying she and Perrin shot some on point Patagonia photos that she thought I would love. It was a few weeks by the time Perrin got home from Mexico and sent me the submission. Its always a treat when we receive Perrin photos as he is a remarkable underwater photographer and we love all things Kimi. I renmbember excitingly downloading his photo folder, after a quick glance I knew what they (Kimi, Perrin + Mother Nature) managed to create + capture was something special. I shared my top selects with the Patagonia Journal (catalog) team who shared the same thoughts I did that the image set was solid and captured the essence of Patagonia photography. My department manager Heidi Volpe helped secure the coveted journal cover. I emailed Perrin + Kimi and told them to keep the photo on ice for us, since the journal is print the lead times are longer but I was jockeying for some prime real-estate for the bait ball story + images and to please be patient as I pushed photo thru the process to image final.
What does nature tell you about women in the water? Perrin: Women have a special place in the ocean. It’s always interesting the way whales and other cetaceans or even predatory fish that would typically be shy, always seem to swim directly up women in the ocean.
What cues do you tap into when searching for a potential location to free dive? There are a number of factors that play into looking for a new freedive spot. I think the biggest one is the underwater architecture of that location and how the tide affects that location. It’s also seasonal just as surf follows the seasons, so do fish. Everything is timing ( at least for the best spots).
Once you find the spot, what does your prep look like? I like to let people go first and watch the drift. Then work with the captain on how we can improve the angle of the current or the distance from the pinnacle or point of interest. If the current is fast you need a greater distance to breathe up enough before your dive.
How does your creativity differ in these two worlds: immersion in the ocean vs terra firma? Oh I really do my best to do everything in the ocean or around it. I’m not very good at being on dry land for too long. Photo: Nick Kelly
All black and white photos: Katharine Kollman
Photo: Geoff Coombs After so many years in the water, what are the most drastic changes you’ve seen, what can everyday people think about or what behaviors can we change to avoid further ocean impact? I always think about the saying (well you should have seen it in my day). that is usually coming from much older people. I feel that I watched it change drastically from a kid till now and again once I started traveling oceans and revisiting places only a few years later.
Single use plastic is an easy one but also just being conscious of the type of fish you are consuming and where it came from or more importantly how it was caught. The ocean faces challenges that are almost without borders however. I think there needs to be more attention addressing factory fishing and the global fishing fleets that are quite literally emptying the oceans.
You’ve contributed to several films around the ocean as a healer, how did you expand as a creative after working on those two projects? I think my style of work has always leaned towards the darker more mysterious parts of the ocean showing beauty in the shadows and unknown. After working on Learning to Drown and Daughter of the Sea I think the importance of telling these types of stories was just amplified. The ocean helped me through the darkest parts of my life and I hope it can help others as well.
What ocean-based projects are you working on now? We are just going into post production on the story of my friend Vaimiti, Its kinda a surf story but highlighting the cultural similarities and hardships that Hawaiians and Tahitians share through colonization and loss of identity and culture.
The next project is a Freedivers journey through a traumatic brain injury.
Heidi: Your work has an impressive range – it would be hard to categorize. You mentioned your work asks questions. What questions you thinking about in your recent personal work. Aidan: I’ve always been drawn to photography because I’ve seen it as an access point to the world. A license to ask, to look, and to learn. Sometimes I find answers, but most often I just find more questions. With this current work that I’m making while in grad school, I’m taking my interest in landscape—an interest that’s been fostered in objectively beautiful places like Antarctica, the Amazon, and Patagonia—and applying it to the contemporary urban, corporate, and residential environments of Los Angeles. The questions that I’m finding myself thinking about while I walk around and photograph stem from my personal experience of moving to a big city for the first time after years spent living on the road, mostly outside in nature. LA is bizarre and layered. It’s a mix of so many things without really having a centralized, defined identity. And it’s home to a lot of this American obsession with concrete, stucco, and bright colored walls that I’ve been finding myself interested in using as elements to question our relationship with this environment we’ve built and surrounded ourselves with. I’m using this time in school to learn about creating work that provides space for the viewer to have their own relationship with the images—space to ask their own questions instead of making images that are limited by the answers they provide.
It’s interesting, you’re challenging what a wall is – using that typology to question the meaning of a barrier or confining something. Is this an act of resistance in your mind? Yes, I think so. Or, at least it started out that way. When I first started walking around Los Angeles, it was easy to make work that directly contrasted the open air, natural landscapes that most would think of when they consider the term “landscape”. The images came easily, but quickly felt cliche. Somehow singular and predictable in their general pessimism. It’s easy to focus on the strictly negative–especially here in LA. It’s a dirty city with a massive unhoused population contrasted with insane wealth, all in and around and on top of itself. To treat it only as one thing—whether grimy or glamorous—would be a very narrow point of view. There are so many aspects to LA, and as I continued to walk and to photograph, I began to find myself interested in the complexity of these layers and in how they’re represented in the community architecture of subways, storefronts, traffic markings, and yes, walls. So much of it is colorful and built to look nice, but ultimately to direct or deter us in one way or another. Not meant to be comfortable. Liminal in nature. You’re allowed here, but only to a certain capacity and not for very long.
And then, layered onto these surfaces of glossy colorful paint or polished steel are traces left—markings, scribbles, covered graffiti or hand prints that show a back and forth that is sometimes violent and other times subtle. Visual responses to this landscape, or in resistance to it.
It’s been a fun exercise to shift from relying on obviously compelling subject matter (like penguins in Antarctica or secluded communities in Greenland) to make compelling images. I miss spending my time in nature, and I’m sure that’s seeping into my work. But this has been a very rewarding chapter that’s leading me in a direction that I’m finding quite engaging.
Rather than responding to a market need and losing control of your photographic voice, you are staying true to your development. Hey, I’m trying! Your best work will always be the stuff you’re passionate about. I’ve always believed that leaning into finding and establishing your own voice as an artist will eventually lead to an identity that’s more uniquely yours rather than a style that looks like everyone else’s following whatever the latest trend. And on top of that the work that is the most fun to make often is the often strongest. Good things come from good work so I try to stay true to making work that inspires me.
I’m still very much on this path of finding my visual identity and am constantly reminding myself to prioritize making work that gets me excited. But doing this is easier said than done, especially when you depend on your artistry for income. In my 20’s, my answer was to live in my truck. By not needing to keep up with rising rent costs I was able to pursue projects that I resonated with rather than having to sacrifice my vision to pay bills. But I recognized this as somewhat temporary solution—despite lasting 7 years on the road without paying rent!—and not likely a sustainable long term path that would lead to the things that I wanted for adult-me, like a stable family lifestyle. Now that I’m in LA, married and starting a family, things have changed and that discipline of staying true to the work that inspires you is much more difficult. LA is an expensive city and my continued path of finding my place within its working professional photography scene has not been a direct one or particularly easy. But it’s led me to some interesting places—some of which have resonated in surprising ways, like commercial fashion and architecture and others not as much. I’ve tried to remember that it’s hard to know whether or not you like something without ever trying it. There are lessons to be learned in even the most unexpected places and on the most unpleasant of jobs.
How do you exercise discipline and fight the temptation of trends? I’m as tempted by trends as anyone and I’m happy to experiment with new ideas and see what sticks. I take with me whatever I think I can use to get closer to my evolving identity and leave the rest behind.
How does fashion and architecture interplay in your images, does one inform the other? I’m curious about what connects us, both across continents and within our communities. My work has always touched on environment, sometime on a personal or cultural level and sometimes in more remote, abstract ways. But even when I’m in the middle of nowhere I’m thinking about how we are affected by these places and how we in turn affect them. Fashion reflects how we present ourselves to one another socially—how we choose to either fit into a social environment or stick out from it. One of the many “threads that connect us” if that’s not too on-the-nose. And I think architecture deals with how we as a society choose to interact with our physical environment. The building materials we use, the colors we choose, the space we give ourselves (or don’t) reflects so much about our societal values, our place in the world and our relationship to it. The work I’m making in school is architectural and while it doesn’t directly feature people (yet) it is still very much about people.
Your Antarctica work is a sharp contrast to your state fair work in both tools and approach. Tell us about the approach for each. Both my Antarctica and State Fair work are ongoing projects and contrast each other (and themselves) as they are both unfinished collections of images made over the span of a few years and a few different developmental stages in my photographic path. I’ve had the privilege of having visited Antarctica a handful of times since 2019, and each time I go down I’ve experimented with different viewpoints and perspectives. This often manifests in a variety of obsessions with different cameras and the aesthetics that each camera system provides. From grainy black and white 35mm to color 4×5 film to digital medium format… who knows where I’ll be in my journey of endless experimentation the next time I get the opportunity to get back down there.
As far as the State Fair goes, my wife’s family runs a chocolate chip cookie company at the Minnesota State Fair. I was never a big state fair goer growing up but since it now looks like I’ll now be going every year to bake cookies until the end of my days, I figured I’d better make some images along the way. I started with my 4×5 over my shoulder finding quieter moments amidst the dusty chaos of fried food and farm animals. The 4×5 is an ice breaker. People are curious about it and much more willing to have their photo taken than when I carry a more “normal” looking camera. But after starting back at school I was tasked with trying something completely different. Give up control. So I decided to lean into the chaos, ditch the tripod, shoot digital, play with flash, and shoot from the hip (maybe glancing at the camera’s fold-out screen, maybe not). I’ve recently been combining the 4×5 images with the digital in editorial pitch-deck PDF’s with the thought that it shows the breadth of my technical skills while covering a single event.
After commercial and editorial success, here you are back with creating more personal work – asking more questions – what are you hopes for pushing the personal body of work? I’ve written like 10 different responses to this question and still don’t know if I’m any closer to being able to answer it. I’ve been pushing into the commercial and editorial worlds and I’ve certainly had wins here and there but I have by no means found any sure-footedness in either. While I continue to pursue financial stability I keep coming back to the mindset that I mentioned above: make the work that makes me feel something, at any cost, because that will be my strongest work. All the “wins” or “successes” I’ve had seem to have stemmed from work that I’ve made solely because I’m passionate about it. Personal work.
However, when I was last in South America making Autopista Autopsia, I wasn’t quite able to find the creative flow that I’ve heard other artists talk about. I was pushing my personal work in a new direction but I was having a hard time knowing how to get there. Listening to interviews and reading about the making of projects and books that I’ve always looked to for inspiration, I would hear stories about how one image would effortlessly lead to the next or about how good it felt to be making the work that artist was making. I, on the other hand, was feeling blocked up and I didn’t know how to move past feeling like I was forcing the work. On top of it all, I didn’t feel like I had the right community to turn to for constructive criticism. For too long, I was using social media as the only arena for showing personal work and getting feedback.
I needed help rethinking my creative process and reestablishing my relationship to the medium altogether.
The pursuit of a MFA in photography will absolutely not provide a road-map to success in the commercial world. In fact, if anything, it’s sure to steer me in a completely different direction all together. Though I do think it will bring me closer to creating work that points me towards the core of my artistic identity. And the stronger the personal work that I can put out into the world the more likely it’ll lead to that next “win”.
I won’t ask you about your truck, when was the last time you heard from the previous owners? The truck! The previous owners are a Swiss couple who are currently living out of their van somewhere in Europe. We follow each other on Instagram and I drop them a line every few month with photos or with mechanical questions about this or that as all the manuals they left me are in German. It’s a very wholesome relationship that I hope to have with whoever I pass the truck along to, someday, maybe.
