1 min readfrom The Phoblographer

How to Keep Taking Photos When Depression is All Around You

Our take

Navigating creative pursuits during periods of depression can feel impossible, yet profoundly vital. Inspired by Kyle Tran Myhre's poignant work, this piece explores how to maintain photographic practice even when shadowed by difficult emotions. Written in November 2025, it reflects a personal journey through challenging times, ultimately discovering renewed creative freedom. Find practical strategies for sustaining your passion and reconnecting with your artistic voice, even when life feels overwhelming.
How to Keep Taking Photos When Depression is All Around You

The quiet resilience found in creative expression, particularly when navigating periods of profound personal difficulty, resonates deeply with our audience. This piece, reflecting on a journey through depression and the unexpected blossoming of artistic freedom, speaks to the core of our brand’s values: the intersection of vulnerability, authenticity, and elevated aesthetics. It’s a powerful reminder that even amidst hardship, the impulse to create, to document, to share a perspective, can be a vital lifeline. The author’s experience echoes the spirit of many creatives we champion, those who find solace and strength in translating their inner world into tangible forms, be it photography, film, or other artistic mediums. We’ve previously explored avenues for photographers to gain wider exposure, such as [VSCO is Offering 50 Photographers the Chance to Have Their Work on a Billboard], and celebrated the joy of collaborative creation, as seen in our piece on [How to Film a Simple Music Video, From Start to Finish]. Seeing someone share their own journey toward creative release after a difficult time feels particularly poignant.

The author’s reference to Kyle Tran Myhre’s poetry highlights a critical point: sometimes, the most profound healing comes from finding the right words, or in this case, the right artistic framework, to articulate experiences that feel otherwise inexpressible. The deliberate choice to "seriously stop holding back" is a testament to the transformative power of artistic liberation. It’s a process of shedding inhibitions, embracing imperfection, and allowing raw emotion to fuel the creative process. This echoes the sentiments shared by models and creatives alike, as seen in a recent piece detailing the excitement of a first magazine shoot [I had my first magazine shoot], which often stems from a newfound confidence and willingness to embrace one's unique perspective. The act of taking photos, even when motivation is low, becomes an act of self-preservation, a way to anchor oneself in the present and find beauty amidst the darkness. It’s a subtle but powerful form of self-care, a visual diary of resilience.

Beyond the personal narrative, this piece offers valuable insight into the creative process itself. It suggests that periods of struggle can actually be catalysts for artistic growth, forcing us to confront our limitations and push beyond our comfort zones. The lack of financial resources, the need to seek community, and the subsequent surge in creativity—these are all interconnected elements of a transformative journey. It dismantles the often-romanticized notion of artistic inspiration as a purely effortless endeavor, revealing it instead as a process that can be forged in the fires of adversity. This resonates with the broader narrative within the creative community: that vulnerability and authenticity are not weaknesses, but rather sources of strength and originality. The ability to translate hardship into compelling art is a skill that is increasingly valued in a world saturated with superficiality.

Ultimately, the author’s story prompts a vital question: how can we, as a community, better support creatives navigating mental health challenges? How can we foster environments that prioritize well-being alongside artistic expression? The willingness to share these experiences openly, as this author has done, is a crucial step in destigmatizing mental health within the creative industries. It encourages a more compassionate and understanding approach to the creative process, recognizing that the pursuit of beauty and meaning often requires confronting the complexities of the human experience. As the creative landscape continues to evolve, it's imperative that we prioritize not only the output of art, but also the well-being of the artists who create it.

In November of 2025, I wrote a note to myself inspired by poet Kyle Tran Myhre's book, "Not a lot of reasons to sing, but enough." Track 9 of the audiobook is a poem that I truly wish I had in my life at the end of 2023: a moment that I consider to be one of the most depressing of my 30s. During this time, I had little money and I dove deep into myself to heal with brief stints amongst community. I eventually overcame what was bothering me, but through that time period, I became creative to a point where I seriously stopped holding back.

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