Check Out Angelea’s Story

Today we’d like to introduce you to Angelea.  

Angelea, we appreciate you taking the time to share your story with us today. Where does your story begin?
During my junior year of college, I took a film photography course, which was an elective option for the public relations degree. I was a triple-major (PR, Writing, and Spanish), assistant principal violist in the symphony and chamber orchestras, and had a part-time job at the Wendy’s across the street, so a photography course seemed like it could be a creative outlet amidst the copious papers and weekly all-nighters. 

I spent several late nights in the darkroom by myself, many times feeling frustrated because loading film onto a reel in complete darkness is harder than it sounds. However, those late nights gave me the utmost appreciation and love for the art. It remains the greatest influence on my admiration for black and white photography today. 

My transition to digital and color photography started at the beginning of my senior year when I became the editor-in-chief of the college newspaper. At the time, the staff camera was a digital point-and-shoot. Between classes, work, rehearsals, and studying, I practiced shooting portraits with my friends and classmates. I started a notebook with glued magazine clippings and printouts of fashion editorials and ad campaigns I admired. I studied its pages before every shoot in hopes to emulate one of the poses. 

Come summer, I was a stereotypically broke college grad. I got a job at both Best Buy and Wendy’s in my hometown of Janesville, Wisconsin. Though it was meant to be only until I found a job in my field, I loved working in fast food. It’s fast-paced. It requires multi-tasking. My coworkers had some of the most caring hearts and personalities with whom I’ve worked. And with the paychecks from both jobs, I eventually saved up enough money to buy my first camera, the Canon 60D. 

My parents always emphasized “get your ducks in a row” before a big decision. So, when I impulsively decided to put a solo trip to Italy on a credit card for an international photography masterclass, they were apprehensive. The week-long masterclass in Florence was presented by renowned photographers, Clay Blackmore and David Ziser. I had called a few months earlier to only find out the class was fully booked. When there was a last-minute cancellation, I took it as fate. 

I grew so much during that week, not only as a photographer but also as a person. Blackmore and Ziser showed me how fundamental it is to provide clear creative direction from the camera, and how to incorporate depth into images. Additionally, I gained the one tool that I am the most grateful for today—how to photograph a stranger. When I travel nowadays – especially in New York City – I love asking individuals I meet on the street if I can photograph them. I love being immersed in a concrete jungle filled with unique faces and artists. There’s always a story to tell. 

In August 2014, I decided to make a spontaneous move to Nashville. I was working at the local country radio station as the marketing coordinator and was taking portraits of families, seniors, and couples on the side. As much as I adored my job and my coworkers who were like family, I yearned to get outside my hometown, where everything had stayed pretty much the same since childhood. I was drawn to Nashville because like most Wisconsinites, I loved country music. My goal was to continue my marketing career in the country radio and music industry but in a larger city. A few months before my move, I drove through the night to Nashville so I could physically hand out my resumé along Music Row. I drove back to Wisconsin that same afternoon because I had to be back to work the next morning. Crazy, I know. 

If my Italy experience taught me one thing, it was to take chances. So, with $800, a crammed 2000 Toyota Corolla, my cat, and a huge leap of faith, I made the move by myself, without a job or knowing a soul. 

I spent the first week in Nashville walking up and down Broadway, popping into restaurants and bars to ask if they were hiring. One day, it was pouring rain. Sopping wet, I walked into the Wildhorse Saloon. I probably looked desperate, but the general manager not only gave me an interview, but he also hired me as a hostess on the spot. Over the years, I’ve learned that it only takes one person to give you a chance. He gave me my first job here, and coworkers who became like family. 

I practiced shooting every minute outside of work. I used Facebook groups to share that I was new to Nashville and wanted to photograph as many aspiring artists as possible, in hopes of building my portfolio. Within a year, I managed to photograph over 100 artists. I was grateful for my marketing and PR background because I knew that connections were essential to this industry. If a door presents itself, it’s up to you to turn it into an opportunity. 

Over time, my brand has transformed; however, everything I did eight years ago is still what I’m doing as the photographer I am today. In a city busting with dreamers and go-getters, it’s even more imperative to put yourself out there. You never know who you’ll run into, or who will give you that one chance. 

We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
Moving somewhere new is never easy, especially when you do it alone. While exhilarating, it also brings cycles of anxiety, burnout, and feelings of rejection. There were several times when I felt like I was at rock bottom. From only having $5.00 in my bank account and not being able to afford groceries to having a drunk driver total my car, it often seemed that when it rained, it poured. 

Once you hit the bottom, the only way is up. Unexpectedly, my sister sent me a huge box of food, and a couple of friends from back home mailed me a note of encouragement along with $300 and a grocery store gift card. The ones who have never stopped believing in me since day one will forever be a part of my story. Without them and their encouragement, I wouldn’t be where I am today. 

It takes thick skin to make it in this industry. There’s a lot of rejection, radio silence, and critique. It’s all about networking and relationships, so not receiving a response after sending out one hundred emails can be a major letdown. However, I’ve learned that patience and persistence is really a virtue. Just like the general manager at Wildhorse Saloon in 2014, Alex, a director based in Nashville, gave me a chance in 2020 that ended up being a highlight of my career. 

In December 2018, my dad passed away from acute myeloid leukemia. Over the 11-month rollercoaster leading to his passing, my family and I witnessed a man’s bravery and resilience on a whole new level. Dad was the most hardworking and selfless individual I had known. He not only taught my siblings and me that nothing worth having comes easy, but also that you should always do what you love. Life the last three years without him have been heartbreaking. But I know he’s cheering my family and me on every day from Heaven. 

As a child and teen, I underwent over 22 major surgeries. I used to ask God why he chose to make me how he did because I never understood why everyone around me was “normal” and I wasn’t. One of my medical differences is congenital scoliosis. I was made fun of a lot growing up in school and in public because of my petite stature and body shape. Other kids don’t know how to respond to me, and adults who don’t understand can be mean. Words can be extremely hurtful. It’s taken me years to accept the differences God gave me as a gift. 

I believe my purpose on this earth is to help others see that imperfection is a genuine beauty. Without the inconsiderate comments and lengthy gawks, I’ve received over the years, I wouldn’t have the perspective or bravery I’m grateful to have today. It takes an offbeat perspective to see things differently in a situation, and it takes bravery to ignore the ignorance and to stand up for others when needed. The best advice I’ve ever received is, “Remember that someone always has it worse than you do. Be appreciative for what you have.” 

Lastly, I found my purpose through passion. My art has given me the energy to inspire others and to empower them to accept themselves as they are. 

Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
I am a fashion and portrait photographer. I love incorporating delicate posing, depth, movement, and authentic skin tones into all my portraits. I’ve also always been mesmerized by photographing dancers, especially in ballet. I danced through most of my childhood and adolescence, but surgery meant I couldn’t continue ballet. I’m grateful I’ve been able to carry over my fascination for the sport to my work as an artist. 

I’ve set a high standard for myself to provide constant, clear, and positive creative direction throughout every single shoot. I’m grateful for the early lessons from the photographer Clay Blackmore, who taught me from the beginning that creative direction from the camera is fundamental because it establishes trust and a relationship with the model. Before every shoot, I envision what photos I want to take. Knowing exactly what I want ahead of time allows me to focus on the frame and fine-tune every detail. 

The fact that beauty comes in thousands of shapes and sizes—including medical differences—isn’t distinctly visible in advertising campaigns. I want to change that. My life goal as a photographer is to shoot some of the iconic fashion brands I’ve always been inspired by, but advocate for models with medical and congenital differences to be the faces of the brands at the same time. 

The roots of my inspiration come from the works of Peter Lindbergh, as well as Calvin Klein, Guess, and Abercrombie & Fitch campaigns. Those images first seeded my admiration for black and white and my fashion-forward posing. I love combining those elements with my never-ending goal to help revolutionize the fashion and beauty industry. 

Regardless of career path, it’s important to always stay humble. That said, I’ve learned that it’s equally important to step back every once in and while and be exceptionally proud of yourself. Getting even one step closer to achieving a dream is worth celebrating. Those small victories make the journey worth every minute. When I look back to when I moved to Nashville eight years ago, it’s still hard to believe I was by myself, without a job or friends. I’m just extremely proud that I never gave up. 

We’d love to hear about any fond memories you have from when you were growing up?
My favorite childhood memory is celebrating May Day with my family. Every year, my parents bought supplies so my siblings and I could make May Day baskets for our friends and classmates. After school, we rushed home to a smattering of plastic cups, popcorn, candy, and silk flowers on the kitchen table. We put the baskets together and then all piled in our blue Chevy conversion van to spend the next four hours “ding-dong ditching” all our friends. This memory is my favorite because it was a night our entire family set aside homework, chores, and daily routine for spontaneous, innocent fun. 

Contact Info:

• Email: [email protected]
• Website: http://www.angeleaphoto.com
• Instagram: instagram.com/angeleaphoto
• Facebook: facebook.com/angeleaphoto