How My Thesis Project Haunts Me
Part I
In December of 2022, I graduated from the Academy of Art University with my Master of Fine Arts Degree in Photography; emphasis in Documentary Photography. For almost 4 years straight, I was working on my thesis project- Alterations of Wilderness. It was an eye-opening experience from several different perspectives.
Five months later, now that I’m not a student for the first time in about 8 years, I’m reflecting back on what I learned, how I’ve grown both as an artist and a human, and what happens next for me in terms of my career and my photography.
Holiday Farm Fire Vida, Oregon Along Highway 126 west of the McKenzie Bridge to Vida, Oregon, the Holiday Farm Fire burned over 170,000 acres of land in 2020. Oregon's Labor Day Fires took place on some of the most heavily logged timberlands in the state.
The topic I chose for my thesis project was deforestation and its effects on Oregon’s landscape. This was in 2018; pre-pandemic days. Before the world went absolutely fucking crazy. I had just moved to Oregon from Pennsylvania via an adventurous cross country road trip in a giant RV motorhome I purchased with my parent’s inheritance.
Pennsylvania has some gorgeous mountains, lakes, rivers, and woods, but it was nothing like Oregon. I was intoxicated by the trees here. As I ventured further out into the Oregon landscape, I noticed chunks of trees and forests missing. I was incredibly saddened to have been introduced to the necessary evils of the logging industry.
As I continued living on the West coast, I desired to learn more about the history of the forests and the involvement of the timber industry in the development of the great state of Oregon. There is no denying that timber is indeed a valuable and needed resource for humanity to survive on this planet. But with this sacred resource comes a great responsibility to honorably and sustainably harvest the trees in a way that has positive impacts for the land and its inhabitants.
So for four years, I explored varying landscapes in Oregon to capture as much as I could. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
My project, as a whole, was a huge success. I’ve had several images published both online and in international galleries, I learned so much about environmental sciences and the landscape, I’ve sold many prints, and I feel that I truly did make an impact with the work I produced. Not only that, my skill level as a photographer and writer improved immensely.
But the project is now complete; and while I can finally breathe (and take a freaking nap) I can’t help but to wonder what’s next.
At the time of my presentation, the MFA review panel asked me “What is your professional plan?” I naively responded with this grandiose idea that I would somehow land a stellar job as a photographer for a big name publication in a fancy city with a fat ass salary. Haha. Yeah, okay. It’s not that it couldn’t happen some day, but the employment landscape for artists, even with an advanced degree, has changed. And we all know that good jobs are a scarce commodity these days in any field.
I know it’s only been five months since I graduated, but I’ve been working on this project for four years. IT’S MY BABY!
Scott Lake Trail, Sisters, Oregon
Nobody tells you how difficult it is to stay creative when assignments aren’t due at midnight.
Nobody tells you how hard it is to pick up your camera after years of feeling motivated on a project once it’s complete.
Nobody tells you that you have to sacrifice some of your creativity in order to survive so that you can continue to create.
Okay to be fair, several people have told me that last one. I just didn’t want to believe it to be true.
Since graduating,
I scored a sweet gig working as a photojournalist for the McKenzie Community Partnership.
Part of what I do for the Partnership is to take photos of local events and write articles about them on our website. MCP’s mission is to foster and support community, environmental and economic resiliency in the McKenzie River area as we all recover from the 2020 Holiday Farm Fire.
It’s such an amazing feeling to be working with this great river community. I really do feel like I’m utilizing my best creative skills to make a positive impact that can help change people’s lives. That’s what really matters, and that was my ultimate goal with my thesis project.
It may not be the New York Times, or National Geographic (yes I applied and was rejected by both) but I gotta say, I am so lit up inside every time I get to pull out my camera for the Partnership.
During my thesis project days, I was hella motivated to cultivate positive CHANGE (with a capital C, baby!) for the environment. I was obsessed. I thought the only way to accomplish that was to have my work seen by as many people as possible, in as many well-known publications as possible, and on as many gallery walls as possible.
Yes, I’m a great photographer and my work deserves to be showcased globally because it’s striking and there’s a vital message behind it.
And there’s 10,000 more of me out there who deserve it too.
But there’s only one McKenzie River.
Cultivating change doesn’t have to be this big, monumental feat where tens of thousands of people come together to demand action. What I’ve realized over the last several months, post-graduate school, is that I’ve been accepted and welcomed into a beautiful community along 60 miles of the McKenzie River in this small corner of the world. My skillset, vision, and message is valued and utilized in a way that can help other people. My cultivation of positive change with a capital C comes from Community.
The big, bad, fast-paced, capitalist, money-hungry world we live in today put this idea in my head that after graduation, success as an artist had to look a certain way in order to be fulfilled in life; that I had to have a certain dollar amount in my bank account and a benefits package in order to do what I love. While money certainly helps to generate resources for me to do what I love, it’s the community that’s creating the opportunities for me.
And it makes me love what I do even more.