

Today we’d like to introduce you to Erica Fae Culver
Hi Erica Fae, can you start by introducing yourself? We’d love to learn more about how you got to where you are today?
I feel like I was born an artist.
I express my views, my beliefs, my loves—so many things—
through different formats, in different mediums.
But the first place I found immense artistic joy,
the first place I found success,
was photography.
I became a photographer early on.
I was that kid in middle school with a digital camera,
taking pictures of everything—
my friends, our little adventures,
a birdhouse outside my parents’ home that I found beautiful. I remember it looked like a chapel,
a sanctuary.
Anything I could capture and turn into art.
Then came high school,
and with it, the darkroom.
That was where my love for photography exploded.
I learned film,
learned to see light,
to notice it,
to capture it.
To print it, make this light and art tangible.
We built our own cameras once,
crafted images from nothing,
and I fell head over heels in love—for a lifetime.
By senior year, I was editor-in-chief of the yearbook,
and that same year,
I shot my first wedding.
It was 2012.
I’ve been photographing people ever since.
Portraits, couples, elopements—
you name it, I’ve done it.
Photography was my first expression.
And no matter where I go,
no matter what I do.
It’s something I will always be — a photographer.
My camera is the first thing I reach for
when I want to describe something,
to capture something,
to share something.
The roses in my garden,
the person I love,
the beauty I see in them,
the way I see the world.
Now, I primarily shoot couples,
small family portraits,
and elopements
in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park,
working with an incredible company I’ve been with for years—
Mountain Escape Photography.
But writing… writing was different.
Writing saved me.
I journaled on and off as a girl,
but I rediscovered words
when grief found me.
After a colossal heartbreak,
I had to heal.
I had to find myself again.
And I found myself in words.
Many of them.
I wrote so much it surprised me.
It moved others.
That was the real beautiful surprise.
Writing became a calling—
not just for me,
but for those who needed it.
Because if I was born to do anything,
it was to heal,
to love,
to love through any means and mediums.
These two mediums—
photography and writing—
have profoundly shaped my life.
They are more than self-expression.
They are love.
They are healing.
And they are meant to be shared.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
As an artist, there is always a struggle.
It’s just there along the artist’s path.
Sometimes, it’s a necessary one—
people not believing in you,
not seeing your art as worthy of pursuit.
So you pursue it harder.
With more passion, more conviction.
To show them.
To show the world.
That art matters.
That you matter.
That art and the artist make a difference.
That, truly, the eARTh without ART is just… eh.
Because to create—
it is the soul’s medicine.
It is what we were born to do.
And that gift, that expression,
it is vital.
But then, there are other struggles.
Like money.
How do I make money doing what I love?
Not that I need to,
but we live in a world where time is money.
And I spend my time creating.
So, at some point,
I have to learn the balance.
The struggle of owning my gifts,
of saying, yes, my art, my time, my self—
they are worthy.
That it is okay to monetize if I need to,
if I want to.
It’s a relationship—
between self-worth and survival.
Between creation and compensation.
And it took time for me to heal it.
I wish I could give it all away,
that money never had to be a factor.
But I think the world is changing.
I think there are fewer starving artists now.
I hope we keep changing.
I hope we keep lifting each other up.
Because there will always be ups and downs.
But you keep going.
You keep creating.
Because it’s not just about the joy when you’re up.
Because the opposite of depression is not joy—
it’s expression.
You have to keep creativity alive.
Even if it’s just a silly poem about the cat,
just to make my partner smile.
Even if it’s just a photo in the morning light,
keeping them my muse forever.
It is vowing,
with every brushstroke, every shutter click, every word—
to live a more artful life.
Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?
I am a photographer, writer, and the creative director and on-staff astrologer at Salon Aquarius, an incredible salon with an amazing community of people here in Knoxville.
In photography, I’d say I’m known for my optimistic and positive demeanor during my shoots. I love to make people smile and laugh and feel effortless and beautiful. I keep it simple. I love to document and be candid. I love to relax and be in the moment, and the camera is just an extension of myself and my artistic eye. I don’t want just to capture a woman’s beauty when I take her portrait. I want to capture the moment she feels beautiful. I want her to see herself as her own muse. Whether it’s the laugh that comes across her face, the smirk on her lips, or the glimmer in her eyes. The freedom that they may feel at whoever they are, they are adored and beautiful, even if it’s just for that moment for me and my camera.
It’s always my aim in a family session that I not only capture the family all with great smiles smiling back and looking right at me, but I never want to miss the moment a dad’s scratchy beard tickles his daughter’s cheek or the son blushing at his mothers crinkling nose trying to make him laugh, the kids running through the field wild and free, a little girl stopping to pick a little flower for me. Those are the moments I am most proud of helping to create and capture, and I hope to commemorate them for a lifetime.
I believe that if you show up authentically, it acts as a warm welcome for others to show up that way, too, to let their guard down, and then you can truly capture the real essence of a person or people. It doesn’t hurt that I am curious and find people fascinatingly beautiful. I have a genuine care for them and want to get to know them and tell their story. My camera is always with me, along for the ride.
In my writing, I think it’s my vulnerability. I am not afraid to show myself or pour myself out onto the paper. I love to ramble on about love and life’s truths I’ve discovered with my heart. I have a poetic prose, but it’s raw. I’ve been told I expose things I feel or think that others often hide away. It strikes people because they read it and can really see the picture I’ve painted because I leave nothing out for vanities sake. In life, I wear my heart on my sleeve; I love that way and write that way, too.
I hope people read my work and are struck with a sense of awe. I hope it inspires them to let down walls, even for a moment, and acknowledge they can also be honest that way. That it’s beautiful and it’s needed, even if it’s just a moment of honesty they share with themselves and no one else.
Risk taking is a topic that people have widely differing views on – we’d love to hear your thoughts.
I think the biggest risk I take is being vulnerable in my writing and sharing my story. Being crazy enough to not just pursue it but want to publish it and put it all out there for the world to see. But I think this is what all artists face, and I know that without risk, there is no reward. There are some things we creatives create for only our eyes or certain eyes and some art never sees the light of day but what a shame it is to think about an art piece that could have saved someone’s life. Like I know, so many writers’ words have felt like they have saved mine.
To even proclaim that you are an artist is like to make a pact with the ideas that come and flow through you. You bring things to life. Draw things out of yourself and others. It’s all almost divine! But a risk because sometimes it feels like the promise we make with ourselves, and we have a sense of obligation and responsibility for this sacred purpose. A risk because we will try and fail so many different times on our journey creating. A risk because we inevitably and unapologetically get judged for what we create and do. Is this profitable? Is this worth pursuing? Is this valuable or necessary? Is this any good? A risk I just take like a deep breath in…and jump! I leap off the cliff into the wild waters below. I hope — making a big impact and splash. Calling out back up to the rocks — shouting ecstatically, “Woohoo!!!”
As far as the biggest risk I’ve taken? I’m not sure yet. My future mother-in-law once thought I was an exhibitionist because I had taken some nude self-portraits, but to me, that was just a Thursday.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.salonaquarius.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/folkandthefae?igsh=MW02ZGxwMXFvcWdmOQ%3D%3D&utm_source=qr
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/share/18yuK7tMPs/?mibextid=wwXIfr
- Twitter: https://x.com/folkandthefae?s=21&t=vtY7T5fmk4PcSd6p1ZLZ-w
Image Credits
April Frencl