Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Ryan Carter. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Ryan, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today We’d love to hear the backstory behind a risk you’ve taken – whether big or small, walk us through what it was like and how it ultimately turned out.
One of the biggest risks I’ve taken in my life was walking away from a more predictable path and committing fully to wildlife photography and raptor research an industry where I had no roadmap, no connections, and very few examples of people who looked like me or came from where I come from.
I grew up in Watts and South Central Los Angeles, a place not typically associated with wildlife photography or field research. Most people entering this field follow academic or institutional paths through biology or conservation programs. My background was very different. I had built a strong career in visual media and photography, including shooting models and commercial work and earning more than 300 magazine covers. But translating that success into wildlife, particularly raptors, was an entirely different challenge.
Wildlife photography requires immense time in the field, travel, financial investment, patience, and specialized knowledge of animal behavior. When I decided to pivot toward documenting raptors and what I now describe as “raptor-rich environments,” there were no guarantees it would work. I was essentially starting over in a new discipline where reputation and credibility are earned slowly.
What made it a real risk was that I was building something that didn’t quite exist yet. I wasn’t just trying to photograph birds. I was trying to bring a new visual and storytelling approach to raptors, combining field study, conservation awareness, and high-level photographic storytelling.
The gamble paid off in ways I couldn’t have predicted. My work began gaining recognition across birding and conservation communities. My book Birds Prey Too gained international attention, and my photography has now appeared on hundreds of magazine covers. More importantly, it allowed me to create a platform that connects art, science, and conservation while inspiring people who may not have previously seen themselves reflected in this space.
Looking back, the risk wasn’t just about changing careers; it was about trusting that talent, discipline, and vision could carve out a place in an industry where there wasn’t an obvious entry point for someone with my background. That decision fundamentally reshaped my life and allowed me to contribute to wildlife storytelling in a way that feels both meaningful and authentic.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
My name is Ryan Carter, and I’m a wildlife photographer, author, and raptor researcher focused on documenting birds of prey and the environments that sustain them. My work blends visual storytelling, field observation, and conservation awareness, with a particular focus on what I call “raptor-rich environments,” places where birds of prey thrive and reveal important insights about the health of ecosystems.
My path into this field has been anything but traditional. I grew up in Watts and South Central Los Angeles, places not typically associated with wildlife photography or bird research. The outdoors wasn’t presented as a career path where I came from, and there were very few visible examples of people pursuing this kind of work. But from early on, I developed a deep interest in observation, storytelling, and visual media.
Before focusing on wildlife, I built a strong career in photography and design, working across a wide range of visual disciplines including model and commercial photography. Over time, my work appeared on more than 300 magazine covers across multiple genres. That experience helped me develop a strong understanding of composition, visual impact, and how to create images that capture people’s attention.
Eventually my focus shifted toward wildlife, particularly raptors. Birds of prey represent some of the most powerful and misunderstood animals in nature, and photographing them requires patience, field knowledge, and a deep respect for the ecosystems they depend on. I began spending more time studying raptor behavior, traveling to different habitats, and documenting these birds in their natural environments.
Today my work centers on combining photography, writing, and education to help people better understand raptors and the role they play in the natural world. My book Birds Prey Too explores topics such as raptor migration, climate pressures, wildlife photography techniques, and the cycle of life that unfolds within these ecosystems.
In addition to publishing books and visual work, I also contribute to birding and conservation conversations through speaking, writing, and community engagement. My goal is not only to create compelling wildlife imagery but also to inspire curiosity about birds of prey and encourage people to pay closer attention to the natural world around them.
One thing that sets my work apart is the perspective I bring. I didn’t enter this field through a traditional scientific pipeline. Instead, I came through visual storytelling and creative media, which allows me to approach wildlife documentation in a slightly different way. My work focuses heavily on narrative—showing not just the animal, but the environment, the behavior, and the larger ecological story.
What I’m most proud of is building a career around something that genuinely contributes to awareness and appreciation of wildlife. Coming from a place where this type of work was rarely visible, being able to carve out space in the field of wildlife storytelling has been incredibly meaningful.
Ultimately, what I want people to understand about my work is that it’s about more than photography. It’s about observation, curiosity, and helping people see the beauty and complexity of nature in ways they may not have noticed before. If my work can encourage even a few more people to look up, notice a hawk overhead, or take an interest in the ecosystems around them, then I feel like I’ve accomplished something worthwhile.
How did you put together the initial capital you needed to start your business?
In the early stages of building my business, I didn’t have outside investors or large amounts of startup capital. Instead, I focused on something that has guided much of my career—learning how to do as much as possible myself.
While I was in school, I began investing strategically in the tools and knowledge I would eventually need to operate independently. That meant purchasing equipment over time, learning photography at a high level, studying graphic design, understanding publishing, and developing the technical skills needed to produce professional work without constantly outsourcing every step of the process.
My mindset was simple: if I could learn how to do something myself, I could dramatically reduce costs and maintain full creative control over my work. Photography businesses often require paying for editing, design, publishing, marketing, and production services. By investing the time to understand those areas, I was able to handle many of those responsibilities on my own.
That approach required more work and discipline upfront, but it allowed the business to grow organically without large financial risks. Instead of raising capital, I built the foundation through skill development, strategic equipment purchases, and reinvesting in the tools that allowed me to keep producing work.
Over time, that strategy paid off. The equipment I purchased and the skills I developed enabled me to produce professional photography, publish books, create visual media, and build a brand around wildlife storytelling and raptor research.
Looking back, the initial “capital” for my business was really a combination of education, persistence, and strategic thinking. By investing in knowledge and equipment gradually, I was able to create a self-sustaining workflow where the work itself helps fund the next stage of growth.
What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?
One of the most important lessons I had to unlearn was the belief that progress in life depends on other people giving you opportunities or helping you move forward. Earlier in my journey, I spent too much time hoping someone else would open a door, offer support, or provide the resources needed to make things happen.
Over time, I realized a simple but powerful truth: no one owes you anything. That realization forced me to change the way I approached my work and my goals. Instead of waiting for support or validation, I began focusing on what I could control: my discipline, my work ethic, and my ability to hold myself accountable.
This shift in mindset became especially important when building my career. I learned that success doesn’t necessarily come from having a lot of money or resources at the beginning. What matters more is knowledge, persistence, and the willingness to work harder than most people are willing to.
I started investing heavily in learning skills and mastering the tools of my craft so that I could operate independently. Rather than depending on others to build things for me, I focused on developing the ability to do as much as possible myself, from photography and design to publishing and branding. It required more work, but it also meant I had control over the direction of my career.
Looking back, unlearning the idea that someone else would create opportunities for me was a turning point. Once I accepted that the responsibility fully belonged to me, I became more focused, more disciplined, and more intentional about the work I was doing. That mindset ultimately helped me build a career and brand that reflects my vision rather than someone else’s expectations.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://photointelligencemultimedia.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ryancartermedia.tv/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ryancartermedia.tv/
- Twitter: https://x.com/Ryancartermedia
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@ryancartermediatv
