We were lucky to catch up with Nick Gunn recently and have shared our conversation below.
Nick, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today It’s always helpful to hear about times when someone’s had to take a risk – how did they think through the decision, why did they take the risk, and what ended up happening. We’d love to hear about a risk you’ve taken.
I am a traveling photographer and filmmaker specializing in street and documentary work. For me, there’s nothing more inspiring than travel. Every new place I explore gives me more perspective and context for the work I create.
I have a career that funds my art and travel, but I make very few compromises in how I pursue art.
I travel full-time and I have the flexibility to work from wherever in the world I want or need to be. It took a lot of risk to get here. I had to demand a certain kind of job early on in my career, I had to put everything I own in storage and learn to live out of a suitcase.
Risk is particularly interesting for creatives because while it’s almost always a necessary catalyst for growth, it’s inherently difficult to come to terms with. Simply put, the fear of taking risks is rooted in a lack of control over the outcome of a decision. How many times have you had to make the choice between a ‘safe’ option and ‘risky’ one?
As creatives, this is a recurring theme. You could argue (and maybe your loved ones already have) that it’s safer to get a business degree and work your way up at a 9-5 than to pursue a creative career. Although there’s nothing wrong with that path, I don’t know a lot of artists who would be fulfilled by a life like that.
For me, the balance I’ve struck has been really positive, and the last year or two of my art and career have been the happiest of my life, but if I’d never taken the risks I did, I would have missed all of what I’m currently experiencing.
So while risk and change can be deeply uncomfortable in the moment, they are absolutely necessary for progression. Even if you fail catastrophically, you’ll have learned about yourself. What not to do, what doesn’t work, etc. You’ll be more prepared to take on the next challenge, and you’ll emerge a more resilient human being.
If that’s the worst-case outcome, what do you have to lose?
Nick, 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 am a street and travel photographer and filmmaker, currently traveling full-time.
There are two things that inspire me to create art. Capturing ordinary, real-life moments in ways you may not always observe, and a compulsion to simplify the chaos we wade through every day.
Travel is my number one priority. I don’t know how long I have to see everything that’s out there, and those experiences are non-negotiable to me. I have arranged my life to capitalize on the gifts of youth, health, and energy while I possess them. Photography is just an excuse to go out and see.
My personal mission is to inspire other creatives, teach what I know, learn more about what I don’t, and inspire community instead of competition.
Is there mission driving your creative journey?
What drives me to create has changed a lot recently. For the first few years, it was all about likes/followers/profit, but the bottom kind of fell out for me at some point. I realized that trying to monetize art for me was fundamentally altering the creative process in a way I was no longer comfortable with.
In a society that doesn’t value art or artists, turning passion and creativity into a career is deeply frustrating. I have found much more value in reconnecting with the art itself and trying to inspire and build community than in chasing a career or money specifically.
Maybe I gain financially down the line as a result of building an audience and a community, but I think it’s more important that I create first and foremost because I love to create. I think a lot of people say that, but then continue to fixate on the monetary aspect as a motivator. It’s important to check in with yourself and think about what you’re doing today versus the end result you have in mind. Be sure that those two things are aligned.
I still put a lot of work into getting my art in front of people, but for now and the foreseeable future, my focus is on trying to push myself, learn, grow my community, and uncover what exactly is next for me.
In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?
I think we’re in desperate need of a cultural shift around the way we think about art. Today, art and artists are considered auxiliary finishing touches, an addition that can be tacked on at the end if there’s leftover time & budget.
I’ve had a lot of conversations about this, and I believe it’s due at least in part to how the consumption of artwork has evolved. I promise not to go on a tirade about TikTok or Instagram Reels–those things can be fun and positive too–but having corporations manipulate creators into mass-producing content to keep people on their apps/in front of advertisers is certainly not helping.
An anecdote: I wish everyone could be a little like my hosts here in New York. They’ve spent their lives collecting art, and the last thirty years imbuing their 6th-floor Harlem loft with striking pieces from all over the country. Living here is like waking up in a gallery every day, but the most striking part in my view is the personal relationships they have with the artists. They know their stories, and they can speak intelligently about all the pieces on the walls.
The reality is, not everyone can support in the same way. But what everyone CAN do, is take a genuine interest in art.
It’s SO easy to find artists at galleries, showings, art walks, festivals. Buying art is one thing, attending in the first place is huge, but taking a moment to stop and ask questions when something catches your eye means so much more than you might think. The number of times I’ve ducked into a gallery to find I’m the only one there is staggering. We need to show artists that there are people who want to connect with their work. Offline. In-person.
The increased numbers at galleries and showings will translate to more budget, bigger venues, better treatment, and more opportunities for artists in the long term.
I would love to live in a society where sure, people assign more value to art in general, but really just where people take an interest beyond idly scrolling through social media. Where people look to artists for their talent and ability and seek to learn more and engage with them without needing to be begged or coerced or expected to buy something.
It would take a fundamental shift in the way that we consume art now, but I think it’s something that at one point or another, we’ll realize is absent from our culture today. I’d like to imagine that there is a future where this kind of actual, personal human-to-human engagement becomes the norm again.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.gunairy.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/gunairy/ (@gunairy)
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@gunairy
Image Credits
All images are self-portraits.