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

Alright, Aarron thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. Have you been able to earn a full-time living from your creative work? If so, can you walk us through your journey and how you made it happen? Was it like that from day one? If not, what were some of the major steps and milestones and do you think you could have sped up the process somehow knowing what you know now?

I didn’t start out thinking I’d make a full-time living from my creative work. For a long time, creativity felt more like a companion I kept tucked in my back pocket—there when I needed to feel inspired, but not something I thought could pay the bills. My background was in hospitality and international merchandising, where the creative process existed, but mostly behind the scenes. I curated, I managed, I made things look and feel seamless—but I didn’t yet realize that this, too, was creative work.

It wasn’t day one. In fact, it took years before I understood that creativity wasn’t something separate from business—it was the business.

The shift began when I stepped into venue management at the Noah Liff Opera Center. What began as overseeing logistics and operations evolved into storytelling—through brand development, marketing, social strategy, photography, and client experience. I found myself blending art with intention. Designing event experiences, crafting visual narratives, managing aesthetics across platforms, and drawing in couples, planners, and clients through immersive storytelling.

I started leaning harder into photography too, launching a brand of my own. At first, I squeezed shoots in between meetings and late nights editing. But eventually, I saw the alignment: my photography, the venue work, the content—it all wove together into a sustainable creative livelihood. Each piece supported the others.

There were definitely milestones that moved things forward: building a client base, refining my brand, developing marketing tools like PDF guides and content calendars, and learning to say no to work that didn’t align. But one of the biggest turning points? Realizing I didn’t need to wait for someone else to validate that I was “doing it.” I was already doing it.

Could I have sped up the process? Maybe—if I’d recognized earlier that creativity isn’t just something you express on canvas or in a camera frame. It’s strategy. It’s connection. It’s how you build trust and leave a mark. But honestly, I think the winding road gave me the foundation to make it sustainable. And for that, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Aarron, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

I always say I didn’t fall into this work—it found me gradually, over time, like puzzle pieces clicking into place. I come from a background in hospitality and international merchandising, where structure, service, and creativity were always interwoven. I spent years managing global assortments for a major furniture brand, blending data with design and curating collections that made sense for people’s lives across continents. It taught me how to see both the beauty and the logistics behind a polished experience.

That same mindset carried into what I do now: building immersive, elevated experiences as a venue and facility manager at the Noah Liff Opera Center—and also capturing them through my lens as a photographer. It’s a twofold creative life that allows me to design moments and preserve them.

At the opera center, I oversee every detail of the venue—from client experience and event logistics to marketing strategy and brand development. The space is a home for both performance and celebration, and my role is to ensure it feels that way to every artist, couple, planner, or executive who walks through the doors. Whether we’re hosting a wedding, a masquerade gala, or a corporate summit, my team and I design events that are intentional, modern, and completely tailored to the story being told.

Through my photography, I take that same lens—literally and figuratively—and offer clients a chance to see their moments as art. My photography brand leans on timeless style with a documentary approach. I capture everything from weddings and editorial-style portraits to architectural spaces and city scenes. What sets it apart is the story beneath the surface—I aim for depth, not just beauty.

What I provide, whether through events or photos, is clarity and cohesion. Clients come to me when they want something that feels elevated, yet human. When they want professionalism without losing personality. I help them express who they are, visually and experientially—whether through a perfectly-timed photo or an event that runs like a dream.

I think what sets me apart is that I’m not just focused on what we create—but why. Every visual, every message, every space we design is meant to make someone feel understood. My background allows me to move between strategy and storytelling with ease, and that gives clients a grounded sense of trust. I’m not here to sell a fantasy—I’m here to bring creative visions to life with heart and precision.

What I’m most proud of? It’s the relationships. The ones built through trust, attention to detail, and a shared sense of purpose. I want potential clients and followers to know that working with me means more than checking off a to-do list. It means collaboration. It means respect. And it means creating something that lasts far beyond a single event or image.

Whether you’re planning a milestone, building a brand, or just want to feel seen in a photograph—I’m here to help you tell your story, beautifully and thoughtfully.

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.

If there’s one thing I think non-creatives often struggle to understand about the journey—it’s that creativity is work. Not just emotional labor, but real, structured, strategic, exhausting, and deeply fulfilling work.

There’s this misconception that creative people are just “lucky” to do what they love. That we float through our days in a haze of inspiration, snapping beautiful photos or curating stylish events or making content that just appears. But the truth is, behind every creative decision is a hundred micro-choices, hours of planning, pivots, deadlines, failed drafts, and trial runs. The process isn’t always romantic—it’s messy, iterative, and often invisible to anyone not in it.

What non-creatives might not see is that this path also comes with risk and vulnerability. We’re not following a blueprint with guarantees—we’re building the plane as we fly it, hoping our instincts, skills, and experiences will hold it together in the air. We don’t just put in time—we pour in ourselves.

There’s also the challenge of validation. In creative work, you don’t always have a spreadsheet or a scoreboard to prove your value. You have to learn to trust your gut and gauge success in impact, not just metrics. That can be hard to explain to someone used to more linear career paths. But it also makes the wins—whether it’s a client moved to tears by a photo, or a perfectly executed event—all the more meaningful.

I think if I could offer any insight, it would be this: creative work isn’t about waiting for inspiration to strike. It’s about showing up, day after day, with the discipline to make something meaningful—whether or not the muse shows up. It’s part art, part strategy, and entirely intentional.

And the more support creatives have—from family, friends, clients, and even strangers—the more powerful the outcomes can be. So even if you don’t “get” the creative path, know that your encouragement, respect, and willingness to listen? That’s fuel. That helps more than you know.

Can you tell us about a time you’ve had to pivot?

One of the biggest pivots in my career wasn’t a single, dramatic decision—it was a gradual shift that revealed itself only in hindsight. For years, I was deeply rooted in international merchandising, managing multi-million-dollar product assortments and flying around the world for work. It was exciting, structured, and successful by most standards. But somewhere along the way, I started to feel disconnected from the why behind what I was doing. I could curate product lines and read market data in my sleep, but I was craving something more personal—something with storytelling, presence, and meaning.

That quiet craving led me to say yes to a role in venue and facility management at the Noah Liff Opera Center. At first, it looked like a complete pivot—leaving the corporate, global world to manage a local opera venue—but in reality, it was the start of alignment. I began reconnecting with creativity in an entirely new way. What seemed like logistics and scheduling on the surface actually became storytelling, curation, and guest experience design. Every event was a canvas. Every client, a collaborator. I hadn’t left creativity behind—I had walked straight into it.

From there, another pivot came naturally: photography. I had always loved it, but now I started seeing how it connected to everything else I was doing. The visual narrative became just as important as the experience itself. I began building a brand around that—capturing weddings, moments, spaces—while still managing the venue full-time. And the more I allowed both sides of my career to exist, the stronger they became.

That pivot taught me that your path doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else in the moment. You can evolve. You can reimagine what your skills look like in a new space. And sometimes, what feels like a leap is really a return—to yourself, to what lights you up, to what you’re meant to do.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: a_matthew_photography
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/obscuramedia.photography
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/aarron-hunt-85303b30/

Image Credits

A Matthew Photography