We were lucky to catch up with Hannah Stirling recently and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Hannah, thanks for joining us today. When did you first know you wanted to pursue a creative/artistic path professionally?

I can’t think of a time where I didn’t consider pursuing a creative path. My dad and grandma introduced me to the arts and humanities early in life, taking me to museums before I was old enough to fully understand what I was seeing — a gift I’ve carried with me. Film was part of that early education too. I’ve never been able to imagine doing anything other than making art. It’s just always been the thing.

Its a feeling I still experience when I visit a museum or see a particularly engaging movie, it resonates through my chest into my entire body. It’s a mixture of wanting to understand the technical craft, and a curiosity about what kind of life someone must lead to produce work like that. I have no specific artist that I want to reference, because there are so many that evoke this feeling. Truly anything ranging from the ancient to contemporary, I just want to absorb and understand. I think I’m just enamored with the human experience.


All throughout my childhood and into my teenage years, art served as an escape from certain uncomfortable circumstances. I was quietly storing up observations and energy, though I had no real outlet for any of it.


It wasn’t until the end of my senior year of high school that I decided to pursue film. I hadn’t been accepted into any universities, so community college was my only option, and I had no idea what I wanted to study. Nothing appealed to me until a film professor from my local community college came to one of my art classes and gave a speech that sparked something in me. I don’t remember much of what he said, but one line stuck with me: “If you are willing to work incredibly hard, the film industry is a feasible career path for a creative.” That became my north star.


He was so convincing that I decided to sign up for the film program on the spot and never looked back. It gave me an outlet for everything I needed to work through emotionally, and the structure to develop my skills technically.

Hannah, 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’m a photographer, videographer, and social media creative, but really what I do is help people figure out how to look like themselves.

My clients are a pretty mixed bag; musicians, actors, other creatives, product brands, families, events. On paper it might look scattered, but honestly I approach all of it the same way. Before we shoot anything, I want to sit down and just talk. What are you going for? What do you want people to feel? I ask a lot of questions, because the visuals only work if they’re actually rooted in something real.

I don’t have one look I push on everyone. My style flexes to fit yours, and that’s how I prefer it. I love to approach projects with a blank slate. It keeps things interesting and the work ends up being better for it!

I’ve also built a network of creatives I collaborate with depending on what a project calls for, so you’re not just getting one person. You’re getting a whole group of people who are really passionate about what they do.

Something I beleive to be unique about collaborating with me is that I know what it feels like to be on the other side of the camera. Since finding my way into production I’ve modeled many times for collaborators, and it has helped me work on my own confidence in front of the lens.

This has taught me a lot about giving direction and it’s changed how I work with people. I know a shoot can feel awkward or vulnerable, so I’m intentional about the environment I create. It should feel fun, a little loose, like we’re just vibing. That’s usually when the best work comes out anyway.

Working with me is pretty straightforward. Reach out through Instagram or email (you can find all my contact info on my portfolio site) and just tell me a little about what you have in mind. Even a rough idea helps me start thinking before we meet. From there we’ll set up an hour together, in person if possible, video chat if not, and go from there. I handle the studio booking and all the logistics, so you can just focus on showing up.

At the end of the day I’m a woman who loves what she does and loves the people I get to do it with. If that sounds like your kind of collaboration or connection, I’d love to hear from you!

In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?

Pay creatives for our work!!

It sounds obvious when you say it out loud. And yet!

Early on I entered an agreement with a marketing company that seemed like a real opportunity. They offered the opportunity for me to create portfolio-worthy product photography, flexible work, and a foot in the door. I was eager, honestly just excited to be included. So I showed up, shot product photography and event coverage for multiple clients, and did what I was asked to do. When I followed up to get my images afterward? Nothing. No payment, no files, no response. Just a lesson I had to fund myself.

Almost every creative I know has a version of this experience, unfortunately.

And the thing that sits with me — being able to absorb that kind of loss is a privilege. All of the unpaid hours, the missing portfolio work, the starting over. Not everyone can take that hit and keep going. A lot of artists I know are juggling two or three side hustles just to stay afloat, or slowly going into debt hoping things take off before the bills catch up. That’s just… the landscape right now. And I think about how many people we’ve lost to it. Voices that never got the chance to find their footing.

I can’t fix the structure. But I can be thoughtful about what I build, and hopefully that can create a ripple effect.

I’m putting together a community of creatives who take each other seriously. People who share what they know, pass along resources, talk openly about things like contracts and getting paid fairly. A space where being new doesn’t make you a target.

In between my full time job and all of the side projects I work on, I also work on a podcast project / artist collective called On the Bar, that strives to give artists the platform to speak candidly about their experiences. The messy, unglamorous, real ones. Because I think its important to know that the hard parts of this path aren’t a sign that you don’t belong, they’re just part of a system that hasn’t caught up to valuing us yet.

And one day? Shows. Events. A room full of artists who found each other. That’s the dream!

Have you ever had to pivot?

As I mentioned before, while going to school for film, I was also working in the film industry. I was pretty resolute in my dream of becoming a cinematographer. I was getting onto any film set I could, even if that meant pulling 12-hour days for free on an indie short film for “exposure.” As if the physical labor wasn’t enough, I wasn’t exactly being careful about who I let into my life.

I just kept running face first into what felt like one brick wall after another, both in my personal and professional life. I had assigned my worth as a person to people’s responses to both my art and my ability to find work. This was all reaching a head when Covid hit and everything shut down. At the time it was devastating. The work becoming even harder to come by, and no longer being able to attend school in person while studying a very hands-on skill like cinematography. I withdrew from school, my creative pursuits, and a lot of the people I was surrounding myself with at the time. I entered what felt like a time of mourning for my dream.

In hindsight, it was the best thing to happen to me. I say “happen” instead of “decision” because I truly did not choose it. That period of isolation forced me to confront the shadowy parts of myself.

I am eternally grateful for my dad, who provided a safe and stable environment, the book When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chödrön, and one hell of a therapist — I include this to say that no one ever truly does it on their own.

I’d say that time lasted about two years. In that time I didn’t pick up a camera or create anything. I was working in the service industry and just generally trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do with my life. I had begrudgingly finished school; I’d had it with the film industry, but felt like I had no other skills outside of production work.

Eventually, that desire to create slowly began to sprout inside of me again. I no longer felt I needed to “prove” my worth because I was genuinely content with who I was becoming and the community I was building. I took an inventory of my practical skills and re-aligned my approach to my career.

I had to remove all of the emotional baggage I brought to my work and think very objectively. I had learned how to work with my hands and provide a service to a client. I started small — just photographing friends when they needed headshots and digitals, taking my film camera with me wherever I went and photographing things that moved me. Just opening myself up to the possibilities.

Now, I know that photography isn’t the biggest pivot away from cinematography — but it has allowed me to hone my craft without the pressure of a large set and months of prep work to make something.

Eventually, as I began speaking about my projects, people would ask if I could do work for them too. That’s what led to two great opportunities that thrust me back into production. The first, my best friend introduced me to — family portraits through an online service providing affordable portraits to families and consistent work for photographers. The second came from a regular at the coffee shop I worked at, who offered me a job as a production coordinator for his events company. These opportunities felt different from my initial approach because of where they came from — support, love for our craft, and a mutual desire to collaborate.

Through this ever-evolving journey of discovering what it means to be an artist, I’ve learned (and continue to learn) how to come to peace with myself in order to support and collaborate with others on a similar journey.

And hey, who knows, maybe one day I’ll return to film. This time making things out of a place of joy with my friends. :)

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.hestirling.com
• Instagram: imp_iety and stirling.creative
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/hannah-stirling-877055315

Image Credits

hannah stirling