We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Chrissy Lush. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Chrissy below.
Hi Chrissy, thanks for joining us today. Can you open up about a risk you’ve taken – what it was like taking that risk, why you took the risk and how it turned out?
In 2018, after 11 years working as a photo retoucher in e-commerce photo studios, I took a significant leap of faith. At the time, I was a post-production manager for a retail fashion company, overseeing a department of one—myself. Despite consistently requesting additional support for two years, the constant turnover in management left me starting from scratch each time.
At one point, I had two managers from different departments, given the cross-functional nature of my role. In a one-on-one meeting, one manager encouraged me to “go rogue,” suggesting I find a candidate for retouching help without approval, assuring me we’d get sign-off later. However, when I brought up the progress I’d made on this task in a meeting with both managers, she denied ever suggesting it, implying that I had fabricated the entire thing. That moment was pivotal. I realized I wasn’t valued or respected, and I’d hit a wall in the corporate world.
I decided to quit my job without much of a safety net. I was ready for a change and took a chance on starting my own food photography business—a completely new path. Adding to the risk, a few months later, during a trip to Nashville, I fell in love with the city and decided to move there. Six months after quitting my job, I packed up my life in New York and relocated.
Building a food photography business wasn’t easy, but I was gaining momentum and had just landed a steady client in Nashville when the pandemic hit. Everything came to a halt. At that point, I shifted back to freelance retouching, which unexpectedly grew into a six-figure business over the next few years.
Looking back, taking that initial risk to leave my corporate job taught me how to trust my instincts, adapt when plans change, and build something meaningful on my own terms. It was a winding road, but it led me to where I am today. And now, I find myself in the midst of another significant risk—shifting my focus entirely to my art career. While it’s daunting to step into the unknown again, I’m excited to see where this next chapter leads.
Chrissy, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?
I’m a fine art photographer, drawn to the intricate relationship between thought and subconscious motivations. I’m fascinated by how unseen beliefs and internal drives shape emotions, behaviors, and perceptions. My images delve into themes of loneliness, human connection, the complexities of human nature, and the impact of modern society on the individual. Through staged photography, I construct scenes that explore emotions and ideas that are difficult to articulate through words, portraying gestures, moments, and environments that hint at the complexity of what lies beneath the surface.
Art has always been a constant in my life. Growing up, I was drawn to drawing and painting, and attending a vocational art school in high school solidified my desire to pursue a creative path. I first encountered photography in undergrad, and while I initially struggled with it, the challenge of mastering the medium and its ability to create something immediate and transformative captivated me. Over time, photography became my way of expressing ideas that words couldn’t capture.
Self-portraiture is central to my process, but I don’t use it to represent myself literally. Instead, it’s a way to work alone, explore deeply personal ideas, and maintain full creative control. Working with models would feel limiting for me, as it would introduce external pressures that might stifle experimentation. With self-portraiture, I can refine and reimagine until the image feels authentic to the emotion or idea I’m exploring. To maintain a universal connection, I alter my appearance using wigs and costumes, creating characters that feel anonymous yet emotionally resonant.
For example, in my series Hold Me Tight, I explored my complicated feelings about aging by juxtaposing my current self with a younger version of me. This allowed me to process those emotions while creating work that feels universal, inviting viewers to reflect on their own experiences. The balance of personal vulnerability and anonymity is at the core of how I approach self-portraiture.
What I’m most proud of as an artist is that I don’t wait for others to give me opportunities—I create them for myself. From leaving a corporate career to pursue a creative life, to self-publishing my first book, I’ve learned that waiting for permission or approval can hold you back. Instead, I focus on carving my own path, and that mindset has allowed me to grow both as an artist and as a person.
My goal is always to create images that linger with viewers, inviting them to pause, reflect, and find their own meaning. Photography is my way of connecting—both with myself and with others—and I’m grateful for every opportunity to share that connection.
What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?
It’s creating work that feels authentic to me and seeing it resonate with others on a deeply personal level. It’s one thing to pour yourself into a piece, but it’s another to witness someone else connect with it in a way that’s meaningful to them—it’s a reminder of the power of art to bridge experiences and emotions.
One moment that stands out was during an exhibition at The Other Art Fair. A visitor stepped into my booth and was drawn to one of my images. It reminded him of something deeply personal, and he became so choked up that he had to leave. Later, he came back to purchase the image, and in doing so, shared a bit of his story with me. That interaction will always stay with me because it was a powerful moment. It was the first time I truly saw the emotional impact my work could have on someone, and it’s something I’ll never forget.
Another moment that blew me away recently was when a collector posted on Instagram that I’m one of his favorite artists right now. Seeing someone publicly express that level of appreciation for my work was humbling and deeply affirming. It’s those moments—when the connection between the work and the viewer becomes tangible—that feel like the ultimate reward as an artist.
Knowing that my images can evoke such strong emotional responses and resonate with people on a personal level is what motivates me to keep creating. It’s a privilege to be able to share my vision and have it touch others in ways I never could have anticipated.
We’d love to hear a story of resilience from your journey.
After my divorce, I went through a five-year period where I didn’t make any art at all. I couldn’t think creatively—I was in survival mode, focused on relearning how to support myself and figuring out who I was and who I wanted to be. I was living in Brooklyn, NY, and the distractions of the city played a big part. I was pouring my energy into socializing and building a community—something I felt I had lost as a result of my divorce. Creativity just wasn’t a priority during that time.
When I moved to Nashville in 2018, life slowed down almost immediately. I had more time and space to reflect, and I began to feel the urge to create again. But coming back to art after such a long time away was daunting—I had to reconnect with who I was as an artist. I didn’t know what my interests were or what my style had become. I started photographing without any specific plan, letting myself explore freely. Naturally, I gravitated toward photographing myself in constructed scenes, a process that helped me rediscover my voice.
That exploration eventually led to my project Hold Me Tight, which has received awards and recognition. It’s the body of work I’m most proud of, not just for the accolades but because it represents my return to art after so much time away. It taught me to be forgiving of myself—that it’s okay to give myself time and space to heal when I need it, and that I can always find my way back.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://chrissylush.com
- Instagram: http://instagram.com/chrissy_lush/