The Forest Over Four Walls: My Nature-Forward Photography Philosophy

I ran into a client at a trailhead this week. We talked about our deep need for nature in our lives. I talked about how I couldn’t imagine working anywhere else but the woods for the majority of what I do.

I have had studios. I have been invited to join studio collectives. I have felt some sort of imposter syndrome at times over not having a dedicated studio. It is certainly appealing at times. It’s predictable, it’s controlled, and it’s always there when you need it. But every time I sit with the idea of a studio, my soul pushes back.

I’m not a studio photographer. I never have been, and I likely never will be.

I am a nature-forward photographer.

The Weight of Too Much Stuff

One of the biggest things that keeps me from saying yes to a studio is the sheer amount of STUFF that comes with it. Lights, props, furniture, backdrops, and an endless stream of things to store, organize, and eventually replace. I’ve spent years of my life reducing my footprint, intentionally stripping down to what I truly need and love. I don’t want to accumulate things just because a space demands it.

For me, nature provides the most stunning backdrops and the perfect, ever-changing lighting. The sun shifting through the trees, the way the wind plays with fabric and hair, the grounding energy of moss beneath bare feet—these are the elements I want in my images. They can’t be replicated in a room with four walls.

Where I Feel Most Alive

When I first started in photography, I swore I’d only photograph landscapes and nature. Photographing people felt too posed, too artificial. That all changed when I started photographing people in nature and when the digital era hit. Suddenly, the stiffness melted away, and I saw them come alive. Authenticity, raw emotion, connection—it all flowed effortlessly when surrounded by the wild world.

I don’t want to fit people into a studio box. I want them to roam, to dance, to breathe deeply under the sky. Whether it’s a branding session in a golden meadow or an empowerment shoot in the deep woods, my work is about capturing the energy of a person in harmony with the elements around them.

A Life Lived Outdoors

I need nature. I need it like I need air and water. I need to feel the earth beneath my feet, the sun on my face, and the whisper of the wind in my ears. My entire life and brand are built around this deep connection to the natural world, and a studio doesn’t fit into that.

I thrive when I spend most of my days outdoors, and that balance keeps me showing up as my best self—for my clients, for my art, and for my own well-being. The moment I trade that for full-time studio lights and a concrete floor, I lose the very thing that fuels my creativity.

Studio Spaces—When I Need Them

That said, I’m not against studios entirely. I’ll happily rent a space when I need it for a project that truly calls for it. You’ve all seen and loved my work at Paul’s Flower Shop. You know I don’t shy away from it when the shoot calls for the space. I love the flexibility of choosing the right space for a specific vision rather than committing to a single set of walls. But a permanent studio? It’s not for me.

My place is in the wild, capturing people in their truest, most uninhibited forms. If you’re someone who feels most alive outside, who finds peace among the trees and joy in the open air, then we’ll undoubtedly create something magical together.

So let’s step into the sunlight, the woods, the rivers, the fields and let the Earth fuel us together.

With my toes in the dirt and my heart in the wild,

Michelle