The Outsider Looking In
A conversation with photographer Michelle Carmona about hidden stories, letting go of perfection, and why the outsider’s view can be the clearest lens of all.
Michelle Carmona is a photographer who moves quietly between worlds. Based in the US, she lives in a multisided country that opens up space for storytelling, photography and - most of all - experience. By moving between the rush of New York nightlife, the coastal quiet, and the ecstasy of rodeo, she immerses herself in different worlds - always from the position of an outsider.
“I’m an observer, finding my shots by studying people and their interactions - most of which are of subjects lost in their own worlds.“
Michelle's images don’t just show what’s in front of her; they capture what’s felt: the conversations, the memories, the unspoken stories. Raw and sincere, her photography carries the quiet energy of someone who never fully belongs but is always fully present.
Chapter One: The Rodeo as a Mirror
“I found myself documenting the rodeo scene like the outsider peeking into a world I was not a part of.”
The rodeo wasn't something Michelle grew up with. Her path to rodeo was a deliberate step into something unfamiliar. In many ways, she stepped into it as a stranger — and chose to stay that way.
Her subjects open up to her not because she pretends to belong, but because she doesn’t. That honesty — hers and theirs — makes her work personal, profound and passionately impartial.
“I'm not romanticizing the rodeo. I'm documenting what it feels like to exist in its margins. ”
She keeps that distance on purpose. Her presence doesn’t disrupt, it invites trust.
As she listens and shoots, cowgirls and cowboys open up to her: about adrenaline and addiction, about youth and aging, about finding a strange kind of peace in the chaos of the arena. Michelle's images carry the weight of a world that’s often chaotic, intense, and not pretty.
Chapter Two: Renainssance Dust
”A great photo conveys an experience, a feeling, a dream that might only ever be lived in the form of looking at this one photograph.”
Before she ever picked up a camera, Michelle fell in love with Renaissance paintings. Not just for their beauty, but for their imperfections, their softness, and the quiet tension in every face.
“Renaissance gives you the ability to see yourself in the work and wonder will happen next.”
This spirit and fascination carry through in her work. She’s not aiming for perfection, but trying to create something that feels lived-in, honest, and maybe even like a glimpse from a distant memory. These memories don't have to be your own, but close enough that you believe they could be.
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“I sometimes hide details in hopes that the audience can imagine themselves as the athletes or subjects I’m photographing.”
Just like in the paintings she admires, there’s always room for imagination. A detail left hidden, a gesture only half-revealed — not for the sake of being mysterious, says Michelle, but because she wants you to see yourself in the scene.
Chapter Three: The Invisible Moments
“There aren't many ways to communicate and share experiences with others in the same way as photography.”
Photography for Michelle isn’t just about taking pictures; it is about the experiences it brings her and the chance to share these feelings with others. Real, sincere images can’t be forced; they develop in a space open to breathe, in a moment carefully picked. Making space for these experiences to unfold is something Michelle had to learn:
“Not every moment needs to be captured. Sometimes I just enjoy it as my own experience that no one else will ever see.”
Some of the most meaningful moments in her life, she says, live only in her memory - but that doesn’t make them any less a part of her work. It's these invisible moments that shape her timing, her presence, and the patience she applies to her process. They define what she strives for when she presses the shutter: to capture not just an image, but a feeling frozen in time.
Chapter Four: Chasing the Feeling
“I’m chasing a feeling of a moment in time that I wish I could relive over again.”
In a world flooded with content — where every moment is documented, edited, and uploaded in seconds — Michelle often wonders what place photography still has. For her, photography is something deeply personal. Something about a feeling that pulls her back in. It is not about getting a certain shot. It’s about being present, fully, and holding on to something that can’t be repeated.
That is why her work has never been about quantity. It's about clarity — about learning how to see. That shift happened years ago, in a college class, with her first roll of film. "In college I couldn’t help but feel like a fraud shooting 500, 1000, 2500 images sometimes in one session and only pulling the good images out, sometimes out of pure luck." she says.
“It wasn’t until I shot my first roll of film that I started slowing down. I began to really look — to find the shot before clicking the shutter button.”
That slow, deliberate way of working stayed with her. "Seeing that first roll developed and discovering some pretty darn good shots, it was that I decided I needed to really shoot film for a while to get better at finding my story. This has helped in those moments where I know I don’t have much time with the subject to really focus in and get the shot I want, then with any remaining time I experiment with additional shots."
Chapter Five: Craft in Chaos
“These days, I shoot digital, but I still approach it like shooting film and I am still after that more natural analog look.”
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Rodeos move fast. There’s no time to pose anyone, no time to adjust the light or ask for another take. Horses fly out of gates. Dust clouds rise. The whole scene shifts from quiet to chaos in seconds. And although Michelle now shoots digital, she still approaches every session as if she were shooting on film. That mindset keeps her focused. It slows her down just enough to see clearly — to trust her gut, to wait for the right moment. Her editing process is where she reconnects with that feeling of being there:
“Editing is repainting what’s important to me in the image. Using tools like Color.io helps me to really bring it home through color grading.”
Editing is where she brings back what was lost in the heat of the moment. It’s not about cleaning up the photo, it’s about bringing out what mattered: the tension, the movement, the light. Editing, for her, isn’t as much about retouching as it is about storytelling.
“The rodeo is a messy sport. It’s not a place where you walk in with a white shirt and leave with it still white.” In both her shooting and editing, she leans in to this messiness — muted colors, grain, dust. She doesn’t want things to look too polished. The rodeo isn’t clean, and neither are her photos. That’s what gives them texture. That’s what gives them honesty.
Chapter Six: Echoes and Influences
“Other artists inspire me to find something cinematic and surreal within the real world.”
Michelle’s way of seeing was shaped long before she picked up a camera. As a kid, she would get lost in old paintings and drawings— fascinated by the way a single image could suggest an entire world. A world that felt both still and alive. She didn’t just look at them; she imagined herself inside them, living a different version of life, created solely by imagination. Or as she puts it “My imagination was always working overtime”.
That sense of wonder never left her – it simply matured. Artists like Sally Mann, Albert Watson, and Cinematographer Roger Deakins gave her something different — not escape, but permission. Permission to find something cinematic and surreal within the real world, and to treat reality with the same reverence as fantasy.
“Those artists made me realize I wouldn’t have to step into a whimsical fantasy-like world to be someone else or capture that feeling.”
Their work taught her that atmosphere can be just as powerful as narrative. That how you see something —how you light it, color it, wait for it — can shift everything. They taught her that she wants her images to hold an extra layer — to convey not just what happened, but how she imagined it, how she wished it might have been. "It’s not about distorting reality. It’s about adding your voice to it - to create a personal, more sincere version of the truth."
Closing: A World of Her Own
To the artists who are struggling, she says: “Make art for yourself.” That’s the only way to stay honest, to let the outsider’s view become the clearest lens of all, and to find beauty in what’s imperfect, fleeting, and real.
Thank you to Michelle Carmona for her openness, honesty, and deep inspiration throughout this conversation. To see more of her work, follow her on Instagram @_michellecarmona
