We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Nic Persinger. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Nic below.

Nic, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. Can you talk to us about a project that’s meant a lot to you?

My most recent body of work is a means of processing a destabilizing period of several years in my personal life. During quarantine in 2020, I found myself incredibly homesick, living in Baltimore and longing to be close to my family where I grew up in West Virginia. I spent a year trying to reestablish my place in a family, a town, and a community I’ve known all my life, and while things felt familiar they simultaneously felt totally foreign. Over that year, I tried to find comfort in the place I felt defined me, but couldn’t overcome feeling like I didn’t belong. Long-simmering family dysfunction boiled over, and I made the decision to leave home once more. I was lost in every sense of the word. This work is about coming to terms with change, my own identity, and trying to understand my place in the world. Creating this work and turning it into a physical exhibit has been equally rewarding and difficult, but I’m grateful to have a creative outlet to help me navigate my life despite the challenging emotions that arise. Making work in an isolated place during an isolating time in my life has been a humbling and cathartic experience.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

I grew up in a secluded West Virginia town called Richwood. It is surrounded on all sides by mountains on the edge of the Monongahela National Forest. In many ways, it’s a stereotypical Appalachian small town—one stoplight, tiny population, and everyone knows everyone. My creative journey really started with being accepted into the Corcoran College of Art + Design in downtown DC. I was a fish out of water moving to the big city, but my time there was life changing. I participated in my first real exhibit my second year of school and that was it, I was hooked. The roster of professors at the Corcoran was something magical–renowned, skilled, and working artists who were teaching us how to pursue our craft to the highest degree. My time at the Corcoran taught me so much, but above all else: put everything into your work at every step of the process.

After college, I came back to WV to be closer to what felt most natural to me–Appalachian religion, rural life, and the obsession to explore where I come from. During this period I became published internationally, worked on numerous commissioned projects for publications and organizations, and had my first solo exhibit centered around a body of work called “few things are certain” about the death of my grandfather. At that time came a turning point in my life as an artist: I was asked to include my work in a group exhibit at the Ogden Museum of Southern Art in New Orleans. I suddenly found my work next to photo idols I studied in college. I’d never felt so proud of myself. It was surreal. That opportunity continued to push me to make work and I was lucky enough to have my second solo show in the years following titled “strange native,” which was my first body of work examining my relationship with home. Because of that opportunity I was also able to add visiting artist lectures and workshops to my artistic offerings.

Up until then I was working exclusively with film, but life led me to Baltimore and I changed gears by getting a digital camera. Moving was an unexpected turn that gave me pause artistically–I found myself in a place I had no connection to, and so much of my creative process depends on my relationship to my location. Artistically, I thrive in parallel to my surroundings. Lacking that, I threw myself into honing my technical skills. I dabbled in editorial work and refined my understanding of lighting, composition, and editing. It was a low point creatively, but looking back it made me level up as a craftsman and helped propel me in the long run.

Once life’s path took another turn and I decided to move back to West Virginia, I felt ready to make a new body of work combining my evolving perspective and skills to a place I had photographed all my life. My work has always blurred the line of reality. My photographs reflect me and my life, but I leave space for others to make their own interpretations from my narrative. I rely heavily on metaphorical images, ambiguity, and a sense of disillusion. It’s up to the viewer to decide if I’m letting them in on my psyche or theirs when viewing my work.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can provide some insight – you never know who might benefit from the enlightenment.

I know this is something non-creatives struggle to understand because I’ve had them say it to me directly and I’d wager other artists out there can relate. Even coming from a family of creative people, some of them will never understand why I choose to be an artist despite its drawbacks (inconsistent income, rejection, in general the “starving artist” struggle). I’ve been told many times I should give up on this dream and focus on a more predictable, traditional career path that pays well above all else. For me its less of a choice than a compulsion. I have to make photographic work. Nothing else in my life has ever driven me like my creative impulses drive me. I have tried walking the other path and it made me sick in my soul being unable to express myself as an artist. At the moment I do work full-time in an unrelated field, but if there isn’t space in my life to be an artist as well, no salary is worth it. I’ve been fortunate enough to find a balance where I can still create even when I’m making my living elsewhere. Being an artist isn’t for the faint of heart, but damn if it doesn’t make my heart feel full.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

Being able to share my work in person, experiencing and understanding what my work conveys to an audience is the most rewarding part of being a photographer. An exhibit to me is like a movie or a narrative I’ve created that I want to share with the rest of the world. My goal is to steer the visual experience of the viewer while they connect my work and point of view to their own. I want my images to give us both a common feeling, whether it’s from the photograph as a whole or small details that strike a certain chord in their subconscious or memories. I’ve always been fascinated by other people’s perspectives, illuminating angles I didn’t see before and connecting where we have similarities. Sharing my photography is just another version of communication to me–it’s a visual journey I get to take with others and every viewer has a slightly different experience and takeaway. Included in that scope is making the exhibit itself–printing, woodworking, and design are also huge parts of my life that all come together for a show. An exhibit is a challenge, but I love the reward of seeing it all done. It takes planning, patience, some tears, and lots of faith in myself, but it also takes a village. My creative process requires a community of friends and supporters that keep me going in every sense of the word.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.nicpersinger.com
• Instagram: https://instagram.com/nicpersinger

Image Credits

All photographs taken by me.