Today we’d like to introduce you to Camryn Shonka.
Hi Camryn, it’s an honor to have you on the platform. Thanks for taking the time to share your story with us – to start maybe you can share some of your backstory with our readers?
I didn’t choose this work. It revealed itself.
At eleven I lost vision in my left eye after a traumatic accident. In one afternoon, something most people never think about became uncertain. I learned early that presence is not guaranteed. Memory is not guaranteed. Being seen is not a luxury. It is a necessity.
That is the beginning. A camera became how I held onto what could not be promised to last.
For more than fifteen years I have stood behind the lens documenting women through the chapters that change them. Businesses. Families. Reinventions. Quiet arrivals into themselves. Somewhere along the way I stopped thinking of it as photography.
Women would walk in one version of themselves and leave as the version they had been circling for years. I started calling that The Arrival. It is the throughline of everything I build now.
I photograph 100+ women a year in Southern California through portrait, boudoir, brand, and equine work. I am a creative director and brand strategist. I founded a women’s community, HER Collective. Every arm of the business runs on one sentence: I give women permission to be seen.
What I actually document is the cost of staying hidden. I call it The Invisible Tax. Every day a woman keeps herself small, she pays in missed clients, unspent income, and unclaimed presence. The moment someone finally sees her all the way through, the shrinking stops on its own.
That is how I got here. Not by niching down into a tidy box. By trusting that visibility, done in the body and not only on a grid, is the fastest path I have found to a woman being paid for who she already is.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
No. A smooth road would have been easier to market. It would not have made the work true.
The first struggle was the one I was born into. After the accident, I understood how fragile visibility is. I also learned how easy it is to make yourself smaller so no one has to look too closely. For a long time I hid behind the camera. I could see other women clearly. I could not let myself be seen with the same honesty I was asking of them.
The business struggle looked like the usual creative path and felt like something else. Years of being told to niche down. To pick one kind of woman, one kind of session, one tidy box. Portrait or boudoir or brand or horses. I kept refusing that advice, and I paid for it in confusion. Clients did not always know how to place me. I did not always know how to price what I was actually doing, because I was selling photographs when the transformation was the product.
There were seasons of mis-hires, underpriced work, and saying yes from my head when my body had already said no. There were years of building a studio, a community, and a reputation while still fighting the instinct to stay just off to the side of my own story.
The road got cleaner when I stopped apologizing for the throughline. This was never four businesses. It was one. Give women permission to be seen. Once I built around that, the work, the rooms, and the women who belong in them started matching
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
I am a photographer, creative director, and brand strategist based in Southern California. I photograph 100+ women a year through portrait, boudoir, brand, and equine work. I also lead HER Collective, a monthly women’s community, and I hold space for women who are done performing a smaller version of themselves.
What I specialize in is not a style. It is a moment. A woman arrives one version of herself and leaves as the version she has been circling for years. I call that The Arrival. That is what I am known for. Images that feel like her, finally. Not a Pinterest version. Not a safer version. Her.
I am most proud of the women who book after they almost cancel. The ones who have built companies, raised families, and still cannot look at their own face without flinching. Watching that flinch leave the room is the work I am proudest of. The photographs are the record. The arrival is the point.
What sets me apart is that I do not treat visibility as content. I treat it as a wealth activation. Every day a woman stays hidden, she pays The Invisible Tax in missed clients, unspent income, and unclaimed presence. My job is to stop the tax. I do that with a camera, a studio, horses, and rooms where women are actually witnessed. Not glanced at. Witnessed.
If a woman leaves with beautiful photos and the same shrinking she walked in with, I did not do my job.
What do you like and dislike about the city?
What do you like best about our city?
I grew up in Capistrano Beach. I live in San Juan Capistrano. My studio is in Laguna Niguel. This stretch of south Orange County is not a backdrop I discovered. It is the place that raised my eye.
I love the light here. It is honest. Morning marine layer. Hard afternoon sun. Golden hour that actually lasts. You cannot fake your way through it. A woman either arrives in that light or she hides from it, and the camera tells the truth either way.
I love that history and wilderness still sit next to regular life. Mission bells. Trails. Horses. The beach I grew up on. Then a woman walks into CAM Studios in Laguna Niguel in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday and something in her changes. That mix is rare. Old California under the new California. Room to be both.
Most of all I love the women who live here. They look like they have it handled. Many of them have been paying a quiet tax for years. This city gave me the landscape. They gave me the work.
What do you like least about our city?
How easy it is to confuse looking like you belong here with actually being seen.
South Orange County rewards the surface. The house. The body. The brand. The version of a woman that photographs well from the sidewalk. You can grow up at the beach, build a beautiful life in San Juan, and still feel invisible inside it.
I also dislike how quickly this place gets flattened into “pretty.” Pretty is not the point. Pretty is the trap. When people assume the work is lifestyle gloss because the zip code is coastal, they miss what is actually happening in the room.
Traffic on the 5 is the obvious complaint. The real one is attention. Everyone is busy and polished and booked. It is possible to live in one of the most photogenic corridors in California and never once feel witnessed.
That is why the studio exists. Not to add another pretty picture to Laguna Niguel. To give a woman a place where the performance can stop.
Pricing:
- 2500
- 5000
- 7000
- 20k+
Contact Info:
- Website: https://camrynclair.com
- Instagram: camryn.clair
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/camrynclairphoto









