We recently had the chance to connect with Kristi Neilson and have shared our conversation below.
Kristi , so good to connect and we’re excited to share your story and insights with our audience. There’s a ton to learn from your story, but let’s start with a warm up before we get into the heart of the interview. What are you most proud of building — that nobody sees?
At twenty-one, I moved across the country and built a new life for myself. On my own, I created a support system, a sense of home, and a foundation for the kind of life I had imagined. I cultivated community, nurtured a creative practice, and did more than just keep a roof over my head—I built a space that is healthy, grounded, and truly my own.
Over time, my friends have become family. My home is a safe, welcoming place, filled with warmth, care, and intention. I’ve found a rhythm that balances travel, work, relationships, and new creative projects—all of which support both my health and artistic growth.
I’m deeply proud of the life I’ve created. It’s a life built on purpose and joy.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Hi! I’m Kristi, a freelance photographer based in Los Angeles specializing in agricultural and lifestyle photography.
I grew up on a tobacco farm on the East Coast, so photographing rural landscapes and the hardworking people who live on them resonates deeply with me. I’m passionate about telling the stories of families who, like mine and millions of others worldwide, work the land with dedication and heart.
This spring, I self-published a photo book about my family’s tobacco farm. Featuring scans from before my time alongside images I captured myself, it spans 40 years of history. The project was fifteen years in the making with five years spent in production. “I miss that blue coming through the door” is not only my proudest career achievement but also the most personal body of work I’ve created.
Collaborating with my photo editor Alexa Johnson, writer Dan Johnson, and graphic designer Ian Babineau was a beautiful, fulfilling, and exciting experience. Making final decisions and seeing the pages on press in Belgium at die Keure was exhilarating — and it confirmed to me that this won’t be the last photography book I’ll make.
Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. Who taught you the most about work?
My father taught me the most about work ethic. As both an engineer and a farmer, he balanced demanding roles with dedication and purpose. He was a husband, a father, and a supportive friend to many — and somehow, he always made time for everything. He was meticulous, organized, driven, and responsible. He worked one job, came home, and then began his other.
From a young age, my sisters and I were paid for our work on the farm. It was hard work and a deliberate effort by my parents to teach us the value of money and how to be responsible with it. Those lessons stuck.
In both this industry and in life, one of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned — from my father and through experience — is that people want to work with those they enjoy. Being genuine and socially aware matters just as much as technical skill. Relationships, character, and consistency go a long way.
What have been the defining wounds of your life—and how have you healed them?
Losses — both as a child and as an adult — have been some of my toughest hardships. There are invisible tethers that connect us to certain people in each lifetime. When one of those tethers is severed, it can feel like a loss of ones self.
Over time, and with self-reflection, healing comes. The beauty in loss is that it changes how you live. You move forward differently. You make choices that honor the people you’ve loved and lost. They never leave you.
My dad was generous and kind — not just to his family, but to everyone around him. Knowing that has shaped who I strive to be. Everyone leaves a legacy, and his lives on in me. Making this book was my way of honoring him. I believe I’ve done that. But more than anything, printing it has healed something in me that I’m not sure could have been healed otherwise — or at least not as quickly.
Photographing my farm began as a way to feel close to my father. The images helped me share his spirit and legacy with others. But over time, the process changed. The camera turned into a mirror. The work stopped being about him and started becoming about me — my evolution, my grief, my journey.
Now, when I look back at the girl who created this book, I see a familiar friend. This book is a tribute, yes — but it’s also a reflection. Of where I’ve been, who I’ve become, and the quiet journey in between.
Sure, so let’s go deeper into your values and how you think. Is the public version of you the real you?
I believe the public version of me reflects who I truly am. I like to document my time in the world and in nature, and that’s what I tend to share most on social media. I don’t shy away from showing my personal life—whether it’s spending time with my niece and nephew, what I notice on my walks, grabbing a drink with friends, traveling, or posting cute pictures of my cat.
My work goes hand in hand with my real-life experiences, and I think it’s important to share all of it. Life isn’t curated, and I don’t think my work is either. I’m drawn to photographing quiet moments—scenes I come across and places I find myself in.
Being in those environments is healing for me, so it feels natural to want to document my time in them.
Okay, so let’s keep going with one more question that means a lot to us: What will you regret not doing?
For the past five years, my biggest goal was to publish my book — and I’m proud to say I’ve done it. Other than not going with my dad to ‘Bring Your Daughter to Work Day’ in fifth grade, I don’t carry many regrets. I keep my arms open to new opportunities and experiences, and that openness has helped me live a life that feels full, purposeful, and largely regret-free.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://kristineilson.com
- Instagram: kristineilson
Image Credits
Photo of me by Carly Neilson
