Creating From The Center Out

I don’t think anyone seeking a linear, clearly defined career would choose a creative one. There’s no blueprint and no sure ending. There is no precise roadmap or set of steps. Those drawn to a creative path, I think, must possess a spirit of adventure. At the very least, they show a tolerance for discomfort and the uncontrollable. For photographers, this is especially true. On a clear, crisp December night in Vermont, I realized that photography was an integral part of my identity. My phone read -17 degrees. The sky, etched with stars, made its mark. The cold was sharp enough to shatter. My stinging cheeks and numb fingers fumbled with my basic camera, my eyes being the only part of me exposed. The spindly tripod was half-buried in crisp snow. It took handwarmers and my hot breath to keep the camera from literally freezing up. But it was worth it, I was bewitched by the stars. They spilled across the night and sparkled—almost as if old man winter were a jeweler polishing a diamond’s cut and perfecting its clarity. This sky, this canvas, made each icy inhale sting brighter. The night sky was my first real subject. That moment became a place where I could be everything and nothing at the same time. I was an amateur tweaking settings, yet somehow sensing that what I glimpsed on my LCD was a mirror: a girl new to astrophotography, but open and expansive as the velvet, jewel-box sky. I had no roadmap for this hobby. I had no reason but the awe it offered. It felt like me. It felt like stepping through the most exhilarating doorway, ready to run with abandon. In that moment, I simply was. No agenda, no motive but to pursue what called me. This is what I call creating from the center out.

One evening in my backyard in Maui. 8 sec 24mm f 3.2 ISO 5000

Photography for me began as a hobby and gained focus after I worked as a fashion designer. I certainly took the scenic route (and hit a few dead ends), but eventually, I found my way. Many beginners are drawn to a variety of different subjects, maybe it’s rural landscapes one season and animals the next. Finding your visual voice is messy, but experimentation and openness are crucial. Creating from the center out means honoring self-discovery, embracing exploration, and following curiosity. Set aside your judgment and give each creative urge space to live and breathe. Social media tempts us to chase trends, but creating for praise limits authenticity. Your creative center can be anchored yet flexible, able to expand but rooted in your values, just as the fluctuating tides and the steady, deep ocean are one and the same. As you grow, your view will shift, but your unique current remains steady yet evolving. Wherever you are in your photography journey, heed what feels right now. Your tastes may change. You might shift from night skies to travel photography or discover that you love capturing moody light. The key is to answer what calls you and deepen your creative path. Even trying something that feels off can bring clarity. Honoring your creative center means responding honestly to what excites you now. This isn’t shutting out influence or inspiration—just be intentional. Experiment freely. Approach everything with the same wide-eyed curiosity and insatiable wonder that a student would. Over time, you’ll find what resonates and what doesn’t. Knowing both is equally important. Realizing you detest shooting portraits is just as essential creative information as knowing what type of compositions you’re drawn to. Creating from the center out is soaking in inspiration, but filtering it through your creative compass. Express what feels true in every phase. Your work always reflects who you are now because I believe photography is an extension of you in a moment in time. After all, your lens is your eye. In each chapter, you will evolve with every step, creating a rich tapestry of what makes you, you, as a photographer.

To translate this philosophy into practice, I invite you to try a simple exercise: take one photo daily without posting it or sharing it with others. It could be a photo of anything, but something that excites you or piques your curiosity. Be very intentional about it, though, almost as if you have one shot left on a roll of film. Perhaps it’s a specific color or a particular type of light. Or maybe it’s taken on a drive to that place you’ve always wanted to finally visit. By freeing yourself from the expectation of external validation, you create room for pure exploration. This daily practice encourages you to focus on capturing what truly resonates with you, rather than what might garner likes or comments. In the solitude of this exercise, you can discover your creative impulses, returning to the very essence of why you fell in love with photography in the first place.

That girl with frostbitten fingers had no idea what photography she’d pursue or what her style would become. Still, I trusted my instincts. That night in Vermont was one chapter with more to come. If you already know what energizes you behind the lens and you have creative internal discernment of what feels like you now, wonderful! You’re creating from the center out. If not, let curiosity lead; notice what excites you now and let judgment fall away. Keep exploring, try new things, and step into the unfamiliar. Follow your creative impulses. Your visual voice will evolve as you do. There’s no finish line, no final destination where we can say we have “arrived” — only the journey, creating and living from your center, honoring yourself at every step.