EMERGING VOICES: THE PERSONAL PRACTICE OF MICHELLE ARONSON
As part of The Curated Landscape, I want to occasionally feature photographers who are thoughtfully engaging with their creative practice—those whose work is beginning to take form in a more intentional way, and who are beginning to share their photographs more publicly.
Michelle Aronson is one of those photographers. I’ve worked with her in several workshops, and she brings a quiet sincerity to the process. Her approach is intuitive, emotionally aware, and rooted in a desire to connect with both the natural world and her own inner landscape.
She reflects here on her relationship with photography, how it has become a meaningful personal practice, and the way it has helped her process grief, memory, and presence.
A Creative Shift Through Grief
Very shortly after her mother passed away, Michelle spent time on the island of St. Croix. Though she had never been there before, the landscape and ocean felt familiar—calling back memories of her parents and the time they shared in the Virgin Islands. She brought her camera with her but initially felt no pull to use it.
“I had brought my camera along with me to St. Croix,” Michelle says, “but it wasn’t until the last two mornings that I felt a desire to connect with the ocean and my camera, and to actually create. The images I made were ICM/motion studies of the waves along the shoreline. As I moved in unison with the incoming waves, I remember feeling lighter and alive… in the flow of life, with my mom present.”
The experience became a catalyst. It led to her first photographic project, Bittersweet Beginnings Along the Shoreline, and later to a year-long mentorship that culminated in her series When the Ocean Calls Me Home, exhibited at Expressions Gallery in Chatham, Cape Cod.
“Photography has become a practice that has deepened my appreciation for my own life as I connect with nature and my true self… continuing to learn and grow,” she writes. “And yes, it keeps me connected to my mom. I know without a doubt that my mom has had a hand in this series of events that have unfolded, and I can feel her heart singing.”
Michelle’s process shifts depending on the subject, but her work often makes use of abstraction and motion. Whether she’s photographing broader scenes or intimate details, she describes her process as largely intuitive, led by feeling and guided by experience.
“If it’s an ICM wider scene, like a beach,” she explains, “I’ll know loosely where I want to begin and end, compositionally. It feels quite intuitive as I’m moving my camera and my body, but I will still take time to check the images on the back of my camera every so often. I want to make sure that what I am envisioning is what my camera is recording.
“If it’s a close-up or intimate abstract scene, however, I’ll spend time clearly defining the borders of the image, and working out what I want to include and exclude. I rely on what innately feels ‘right.’ I’ve studied composition extensively and from so many people over the years, but I don’t think about any ‘rules’ when I’m actually photographing.”
That same sensitivity extends to how she shares her work. One image in particular—River of Life—felt especially personal, and she wasn’t sure she would ever release it publicly. To her surprise, sharing it led to one of the most affirming moments in her journey.
“I felt a strong attachment to the image, and I loved it, but I wasn’t sure I’d share it with anyone,” she says. “When I ultimately decided to share the image with friends and colleagues, I was very pleasantly surprised. I received heart-touching and positive feedback that was very reaffirming. It boosted my confidence to share more of my imagery that feels deeply personal.”
Michelle continues to explore photography as a tool for personal expression. Her work blends intuition with technical curiosity, and she is learning to balance growth with self-compassion.
“At any given time, I just want to feel I am doing the best I can and let that be enough,” she writes. “It is an ever-evolving practice.”
A Practice That Continues to Evolve
Michelle’s reflections offer something that applies to any stage of the photographic path: a reminder to stay open—to what you’re feeling, to what the landscape is offering, and to how your images might evolve with time.
Her approach points to a few quiet truths worth holding onto:
The process is personal. Let it reflect where you are—not where you think you should be.
Intuition has value. Sometimes the most resonant images begin not with a plan, but with a feeling.
Sharing your work can open doors you didn’t expect—not just with others, but with yourself.
Many thanks to Michelle for sharing her words and images so openly. You can follow more of her work on Instagram @mraronson
It’s a pleasure to feature photographers who are approaching the craft with care, curiosity, and a willingness to reflect.
We’re grateful to have her voice included here on The Curated Landscape.
Images courtesy of Michelle Aronson © 2025
