We recently connected with Elisabeth Ladwig and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Elisabeth, thanks for joining us today. Can you take us back in time to the first dollar you earned as a creative – how did it happen? What’s the story?

That’s definitely something you don’t forget! I was in the car with my husband, in the lot at the local park & ride. No idea why we were there. Anyway, my phone rang – it was Lex, owner of the gallery where my first solo show was on view in Nyack, New York – a super cute, vibrant town with lots of foot traffic. It was a vanity gallery, meaning you rent the space. I was brand new to the art world, having just spent a full year building my portfolio and launching my website. As I searched for ongoing gallery representation elsewhere, this show was a great item to add to my otherwise blank resume.

Lex was more than happy to inform me that my first dollar was immersed somewhere in a sale just shy of $2500. A local massage therapist had purchased my entire dryad (tree spirit) series. When I got off the phone, I picked up my jaw off the floor and started crying. The overwhelm was equal parts shock, humility, and gratitude. My work had touched someone else deeply enough that they wanted to see it every day.

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.

Sure! My name is Elisabeth Ladwig, and I’m a photographic artist working out of a home studio in the Hudson Valley. I create magical images using my own photographs.

As an artist, I suppose I’m a bit of an anomaly. Unlike so many others, I can’t say that I have always dreamed of being an artist, or that I knew from a young age I was an artist. If you had told me at age 28 that one day I’d be showing my work in galleries, I would have been frozen in disbelief. Doing what? I’m not an illustrator, not a painter, not a sculptor… I had a B.A. in French translation that I wasn’t using. I’ve always been creative, but making a steady paycheck from original art was nowhere on my radar. I was working in the music industry, following a rather winding, bumpy path through administrative positions I didn’t love, returning each night to a secret life outside the office where you may have found me composing music, making jewelry, making plant-based skin care, or doing collage. Then I noticed something about these seemingly unrelated creative processes: they all began with bits and pieces, ingredients that culminated in a single cohesive creation.

I don’t remember what it was that required me to visit the art department one day. When I discovered graphic design, the coup de coeur hit hard. Creating artistic visuals with images, text, and graphic elements was the perfect fit. I enrolled in classes at Parsons in New York City, received my Certificate, and returned to the music world as a graphic designer for Sony. I loved that job immensely. But several years later, an ever-downsizing industry left me freelancing, and I began to re-evaluate my options. If I had complete creative freedom, what would that look like?

As I asked this question, I continued with small-scale collage projects in my spare time. People started asking if they were for sale. They weren’t – I certainly didn’t want any battles with copyright law. But what if I used my own photographs?

It’s called photo compositing. Digital collage, essentially. It’s not something I made up; you learn it in design school when you take Photoshop, and later I took additional courses online to supplement my skill set. As I experimented, I found myself gravitating toward softer, more watercolor-like imagery. Photographs of textures are ghosted in each piece, which means my work is sometimes mistaken for paintings. And, as someone who finds spirituality in Nature and mystery in everything, it was almost an unconscious choice to include elements of magic in my work. Photographs that cannot be photographed.

Lockdown prompted me to dig up my old supplies from my days Parsons and set up an art table at home. Since then, I’ve included painted elements in a few of my artworks (photographs of them), so I’m super excited to see where that goes.

What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?

I do think the work has begun, with a multitude of residencies, fellowships, contests, and grants available to us. Beyond this, there is a lot we can still do at the consumer level. Those who want to support artists need to be willing to spend a little more time finding the products they’re looking for instead of immediately turning to big box stores the next time they’re looking for a soap dish. Several items in my studio are the work of artists I’ve discovered on my travels, at galleries, and even on Etsy, from ceramic vessels to workstation desks to a wall unit of cubbies made from reclaimed barn wood. I love the process of finding unique treasures and curating joyful spaces.

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.

There is one thing about this journey that really threw me for a loop: I was under the false impression that artists get to create all day.

All of a sudden I was running a business. I didn’t know how to run a business, but there it was. I learned on the job, using resources like Red Dot Blog to familiarize myself with the industry. I might spend weeks on end coordinating the details of a show, promoting my work to new galleries and publications, learning technology, creating social media content, drafting licenses, writing newsletters, entering contests, designing postcards, updating spreadsheets, doing expenses, and getting art where it needs to be. Packing and shipping two boxes could take all morning. I also have an Etsy shop where I sell card decks of my art – orders to fulfill and supplies to replenish. These are all good things, but it doesn’t leave much time for creating. This year, in 2024, I finally hired a part-time Studio Assistant, a student at the local university. Totally worth it.

When I do have time to work on a new piece, I need to snap out of business mode and slow down. The creative process requires me to operate from a very different place. I need to reconnect with Nature and with life. It’s about wonder and curiosity and the organic flow of ideas. Nothing about it can be rushed or forced. That’s not creativity. Sometimes the process flows; other times I spend hours without much to show for it, and I have to be ok with that. I have to remind myself that every moment spent contemplating a new concept is valuable to the journey.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://elisabethonearth.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/elisabethonearth/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ElisabethonEarth/

Image Credits
Julieanne Browning, Pine & Fable Photography