From frozen landscapes to fleeting moments, Alex Hinson’s photography isn’t just about what’s in front of the lens - it’s about the feeling it leaves behind.
For some, a creative career is a carefully mapped-out path. For Alex Hinson, it was a series of leaps into the unknown—some calculated, some reckless, all necessary.
It began in December 2014, not in a studio or classroom, but in the aftermath of an ice storm. With school canceled and the streets silenced by layers of frozen glass, Hinson grabbed his iPhone 4 and stepped outside. He wasn’t searching for a creative outlet—just something to do. Yet as he pointed his phone at the frost-covered plants and delicate icicles hanging from rooftops, something shifted. The world looked different through a lens.
A few months later, he went on his first real hike, borrowing a Canon Powershot from a friend’s parents. This time, the photos weren’t just snapshots. There was intent. He began to think about composition, light, perspective—how a camera could frame reality, not just capture it. Those first few months were trial and error, but he was hooked.
Then came a sign that maybe photography wasn’t just a hobby. His dad won a giveaway, and the prize was a brand-new Sony a5000. It became his first personal camera, and from that moment, he never stopped shooting. Landscapes, light, shadows, movement—he obsessed over them all.
But passion alone doesn’t pay the bills.
By 2018, Hinson was at a crossroads. He had dropped out of college twice, unsure of what came next. Photography had taken hold of him, but the idea of making it a full-time career felt distant. Instead, he found himself working at a pizza place, the camera still in his hands but the path forward unclear. He wrestled with the same question day after day: Was he ready? Could he actually do this?
Then, on June 10, 2021, after years of uncertainty, he stopped waiting.
“I quit my job as a pizza boy and became a full-time photographer,” he says. No backup plan. No safety net. Just belief—and a camera.
A week later, he packed up his gear and set out on a 30-day solo road trip—a test not just of his photography, but of his ability to make this life work.
8,000 miles. 10 states. 30 days.
By the time he returned to Oregon, reality hit: he was unemployed, entirely dependent on his own creativity. There was no employer to rely on, no fixed income. He had to make it happen—fast.
“Did I jump the gun? Honestly, yes,” he admits. “I lacked a lot of business knowledge that could have made the transition easier.”
But learning on the job was the only way forward. He spent the next months refining not just his craft, but his ability to sell it, sustain it, and grow it. Trial and error, long nights of doubt, small wins that built into bigger ones.
And then, the work started to speak for itself.
Today, Hinson is a full-time freelance photographer, working with some of the biggest brands in the world—Ford, Microsoft, Osprey, and more. The uncertainty, the risk, the missteps—they were all part of the process.
Looking back, he knows he could have waited longer, prepared more, played it safer. But that’s not how things happen. The perfect moment never arrives—you have to create it yourself.
And for Hinson, that moment started with an iPhone 4 and an ice storm.
Finding Voice
Like many young photographers, Alex Hinson spent his early years chasing the work of those he admired—trying to match their tones, their compositions, their edits. But the more he mimicked, the more he felt disconnected from his own work. “I tried so hard to emulate the photographers I looked up to instead of following my own intuition,” he admits. It took time to realize that what made his work stand out wasn’t technical precision or trend- following—it was him. His instincts, his perspective, his way of seeing the world. As he refined his style, he stopped trying to fit into someone else’s vision and started trusting his own. That’s when everything changed.
The Power of a Single Project
very creative reaches a point where their work shifts from passion to something real. For Alex Hinson, that moment came in May 2020 with the release of From Seas to Mountains, his first photo book. “Holding a book full of my best work was incredible,” he says. “But what really hit me was that people were willing to pay for it. They wanted to own something I had created.” That changed everything.
Up until then, photography had been about adventure and the thrill of the shot. But the book forced him to rethink his approach. It wasn’t just about great images—it was about storytelling, permanence, and curation. Unlike an Instagram post lost in a feed, this was something people could hold, revisit, and connect with over time. It also challenged him to refine his voice. Seeing his work in print made him ask: What am I trying to say? What makes my work different? How do my images flow together? It wasn’t just about a single shot—it was about crafting a cohesive experience.
More than anything, From Seas to Mountains was proof that his work mattered beyond personal passion. The leap into freelance photography had been a risk—one that demanded not just skill, but resilience, self-belief, and the willingness to navigate uncertainty. But this book confirmed something essential: his art had value, not just to him, but to others. It wasn’t just about taking good photos anymore; it was about creating something tangible, something that resonated beyond the instant gratification of a screen.
That realization shifted everything. It pushed him to think bigger, create with more intention, and trust his instincts fully. Photography was no longer just about capturing a moment—it was about shaping how people experienced it. It forced him to refine his artistic voice, ensuring that every frame carried meaning, every image fit into a larger narrative.
It marked a shift in his identity—not just as someone who captures the world, but as an artist who shapes how others see it. A creator whose work didn’t just exist for the present, but had the power to leave a lasting impression.
Photography vs. Emotion
Alex Hinson’s work isn’t just about capturing places—it’s about capturing feeling.
If my photography could be described as a sensation rather than a style, it would be euphoria ,”
he says. His goal isn’t just to document a scene, but to heighten it, exaggerating what he saw in a way that feels dreamlike yet grounded in reality.
It’s a delicate balance. “I want my photos to feel almost surreal, but not artificial,” he explains. “It’s about taking what’s already there—the light, the color, the atmosphere —and amplifying it just enough to make it feel like a memory you don’t want to fade.”
For Hinson, photography is more than composition and technical precision. It’s about emotion first. The shot, the edit, the tones—they all serve one purpose: to make people feel something.
Photography is often about evolution — about trial, error, and discovering what makes your work unique. For Alex Hinson, though, the core of his style has remained consistent. “Obviously, over the years, I’ve refined my style and really locked it in, both when shooting and editing,” he says. But the essence of his work—the way he sees and captures the world—hasn’t changed. What has shifted is his confidence. “When I go out and shoot now, I know what I like compositionally, lighting- and color-wise before I even take a photo. Same with editing—I already know how I want the final image to look before I even begin.” Experience has sharpened his instincts, turning guesswork into precision. The process may feel more refined, but the passion behind it remains the same.
For a photographer, every moment comes with a choice—to experience it or to document it. Hinson is the first to admit that it’s not always easy to strike a balance. “There aren’t many moments where I won’t take ANY photos,” he says. “But there are definitely times when I take fewer than normal.” He’s learned that sometimes, it’s just as important to be present as it is to capture a frame. Some moments are meant to be seen, felt, and remembered—not filtered through a viewfinder. If he weren’t a photographer, would he still be creating? Absolutely. “I’d like to believe I’d be doing something else creative,” he says. But outside of photography, there’s another passion that’s always lingered in the background—cooking. “Growing up, I always wanted to be a chef,” he admits. Even now, food remains a creative outlet, a space where he can experiment, refine, and craft something from nothing. Whether it’s photography or cooking, the common thread is clear—Hinson is a creator at heart, no matter the medium.
