We’re looking forward to introducing you to Chad Windham. Check out our conversation below.
Hi Chad, thank you so much for taking time out of your busy day to share your story, experiences and insights with our readers. Let’s jump right in with an interesting one: What do the first 90 minutes of your day look like?
I start most mornings the same way — slow and quiet. I head into my office with the lights low, put on some acoustic jazz, and try not to hear any words for the first hour. I light a candle, open my journal, and work through a small stack of books — just a page or two from each. Meditations by Marcus Aurelius, The Daily Pressfield, The Daily Stoic — it’s a mix that helps me get centered.
After about 30 or 45 minutes of reading and writing, I stretch or work out — sometimes a run, sometimes just some body movement, but always something. When I’m done, I go drag my pug out of his bed — he’s never in a hurry to start the day. I’m clear-headed and ready to work; he’s still half-asleep and cozy.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m a photographer and filmmaker based in Dallas and L.A., and most of my work lives somewhere between documentary and brand storytelling. I’ve always been drawn to the stories behind the people — the craft, the process, the grit it takes to make something meaningful.
Over the years, that’s turned into a mix of branded narratives and short documentaries that shine a light on makers, small businesses, and the creative process itself. My background is in photojournalism, so even when I’m working with a brand, I’m still looking for that honest, human thread that connects it all.
A while back, I released Shuttered, a portrait series and book about small businesses that weathered the pandemic — that project reminded me why I do this. Moving forward, I’m working on a new documentary and developing a brand around a running hydration device that brings together two of my favorite things — movement and storytelling.
Appreciate your sharing that. Let’s talk about your life, growing up and some of topics and learnings around that. What did you believe about yourself as a child that you no longer believe?
When I was a kid, I was sure I could fly — or at least move things with my mind. Spoiler: I couldn’t. In a weird way, I still kind of chase that feeling. These days, it just shows up through the creative process — one step, one frame, one idea at a time.
It’s a lot like training for a long race. You can’t wake up one morning and knock out 50 miles. You build toward it — little by little, with some faith and a lot of patience. Turns out that’s where the real magic lives. The process.
What did suffering teach you that success never could?
I have artist friends who say the creative process is suffering. I’m not sure I totally believe that, but this life definitely has its ups and downs. There are years when I’m riding the wave, and years when I’m washed up on shore. The hard seasons make you slow down and pay attention.
Success can trick you into thinking you’ve got it all figured out — and then, just like that, the rug gets pulled out from under you. Those times have taught me to tighten the belt, be patient, stay humble, and embrace the quiet. They’ve made me appreciate the people around me and the space to reflect — something you don’t get much of when things are moving fast.
When everything falls apart, you start to see what really matters — the people who show up, the work that still calls to you, and the strength you didn’t know you had. Success never taught me that.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
I’m committed to telling the stories of people who create. The world is full of builders, painters, designers, and filmmakers who turn nothing into something and actually see it through. Every creative process is full of failures and small wins, and I’ve lived enough of both to know how hard it is to finish anything.
The fact that someone persevered long enough to bring that idea, product, painting, or film into the world — that’s a huge accomplishment. That’s the part that moves me. Even in a world full of modern tools and AI, there’s still this raw, human element behind it all — and that’s what I want to keep exploring, no matter how long it takes.
Okay, we’ve made it essentially to the end. One last question before you go. Are you doing what you were born to do—or what you were told to do?
My parents gave me a camera when I was a kid, and I never put it down. I told them, “This is what I want to do with my life,” and they tried everything to talk me out of it — be a vet, be a salesman, be a doctor… hell, go flip burgers — just don’t be an artist.
But I couldn’t shake it. There was something about seeing the world through that frame that just made sense to me. Maybe it’s a way of stepping outside reality for a second — of finding order, light, and meaning in all the chaos. It’s not an easy path — it never has been — but it’s the only one that’s ever made sense to me. That’s what keeps me picking up the camera again.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.chadwindham.com
- Instagram: @chad_windham_dp
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/windhamphoto/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/chad.windham/
Image Credits
All images by Chad Windham
