
While there wasn’t a single defining moment that led me to photography, one seminal experience stands out. In middle school, while studying U.S. history, I first encountered Dorothea Lange’s work for the Farm Security Administration. Her images were so deeply evocative that I could feel, almost physically, the hardship and resilience of the people she documented. For a time, I dreamed of becoming a National Geographic photographer, drawn to the idea of using imagery to tell powerful stories.
Life, however, took me in a different direction. My career path led me to the corporate world, where I worked at one of the Big 5 consulting firms, and later, I built and operated Pilates studios in NYC and the Hamptons. Though I had studied photography in college, my camera sat untouched for far too many years. It wasn’t until I had children and moved to the California coast that photography found its way back into my life.
My husband encouraged me to carve out time for photography, recognizing how much I came alive when I was behind the lens. Being outdoors, immersed in nature, is where I feel most at peace. Given that I primarily shoot landscapes and seascapes, photography has become a meditative practice for me—a way to slow down and connect with the world. He was also the one who urged me to take the leap from "hobbyist" to professional, encouraging me to share my work with the world.
Was there a turning point when you knew photography would become your full-time career? What led you to take that leap?
When I first picked up my camera after a long hiatus, I wasn’t looking to turn it into a profession. Photography was simply a creative outlet—something I loved doing, especially in the very early mornings as the sun was rising.
The turning point happened gradually. My husband kept encouraging me to sell my work, especially as people frequently asked where they could purchase my photography and the moss art I was creating at the time. For a long time, I resisted—I wasn’t sure if I wanted to turn a passion into a business. But one day, I woke up ready. I missed the energy of building something, the challenge of entrepreneurship, and the sense of purpose that comes from sharing my work with others.
With my background in business and entrepreneurship, I knew I could approach it strategically. But more than that, I was all in because of my deep love for the craft. I finally realized that making a living from my art didn’t mean losing the joy—it meant leaning into it fully.

Gold Beam by Mika Street
How would you describe your personal photography style? What makes your approach distinct from others?
My photography is centered around landscapes and seascapes, but more than that, it’s about capturing a feeling—one that is quiet, expansive, and deeply connected to place. Over time, I’ve come to realize that not all beaches or mountains are created equal—not just in terms of light or vantage points, but in the sense of peacefulness they offer. I’ve shot in LA, Malibu, Santa Barbara, and other beautiful locations, but none of those images ever made it onto my website. The energy wasn’t the same. I don’t just chase scenic landscapes—I chase the stillness, the places where all the "noise" fades away.
That’s what makes my approach distinct. It’s not just about capturing a stunning view; it’s about capturing a feeling. Sometimes, you can find that solitude in busier locations if the timing is right, but it’s rare. That’s also why I love aerial photography so much. There’s something about being in a helicopter, high above the crowds, where the world feels vast and untouched. That perspective—where everything below feels small and simple is what I’m always searching for in my work.
Can you walk us through your creative process? From concept to final edit, what goes into creating your imagery?
Ahh, it is old school. There are so many apps now that allow you to plan every element of your shoot down to the second and inch. I am predisposed to resist all apps (including United!), so it is no surprise that I don’t use any of them, with the exception of Lumy, which helps me track light and timing, especially when traveling. I love soft light, so early mornings and late evenings are usually my preferred times to shoot.
Once I’ve captured my images, I import them into Lightroom, but I don’t rush into editing. In fact, it can take me years before I even begin that phase. That’s because I’ve learned that if I start editing too soon, I might try to force an image to work simply because I want to love it. Giving myself time and distance allows me to be more objective—to look at an entire collection and see which images truly stand out. Of course, when I’m working on a commissioned or assignment piece, the process is much more immediate, but for my personal work, I try to let it breathe.
When it comes to editing, I always try to keep it light. My goal is to enhance what’s already there, not to manipulate the scene into something it wasn’t. I want my images to feel natural, immersive, and true to the moment I experienced.

Reflections by Mika Street
You’ve captured so much over the years—does one particular photo stand out as your favorite? If so, what makes it special?
My very favorite photos were taken on the same day, in the same place. I had brought my kids to The Image Flow for a photo shoot. One of my mentors, Stuart Schwartz, always says, “A photo is not a photo until it is printed.” These two photos were the first I ever printed professionally and framed. They capture the essence of my children so perfectly—their personalities and their spirit. They make me smile every single day as they hang on the wall by my computer, where I get to see them whenever I sit down to work. It’s a daily reminder of why photography matters—because some moments are meant to be preserved, not just on a screen, but in a tangible way that you can live with.
Are there certain landscapes or environments that you find yourself drawn to time and time again? Why do they resonate with you?
Absolutely—I am always and forever drawn to the sea. As odd as it sounds, one of my fondest childhood memories is being chained to the stern of the brigantine we lived on while waves crashed over the mainmast nearly 60 feet high. I got seasick, so staying below deck wasn’t an option, which meant I had a front-row seat to the raw power of the ocean. I am fairly certain those early years cemented my deep connection to the water.
To this day, capturing water in motion is one of my favorite subjects. There’s something about the unpredictability of the sea—how it can be calm one moment, then wild and untamed the next.
What do you do when inspiration isn’t flowing? Any personal techniques or habits that help reignite your creativity?
I try not to put too much pressure on it. Creativity has its own ebb and flow, and I’ve learned that forcing it rarely works. I usually find that inspiration wanes when I’m photographing in environments that don’t feel authentic to the work I want to create—crowds, bright lights, overstimulating spaces. When that happens, I take a step back and remind myself why I love this in the first place.
One of the best ways I’ve found to reignite inspiration is to change my perspective—literally. Shooting from a helicopter, for example, strips away the distractions and allows me to see landscapes in a completely new way. Light is another constant source of creative renewal. When I shift my focus from the subject itself to the way light interacts with it, I often rediscover inspiration. And sometimes, the best thing I can do is step away from the camera, get outside, and be present. Inspiration always finds its way back when I give it the space to do so.

Sand Bank by Mika Street
Being based in Marin County, you're surrounded by stunning scenery. Are there any local hidden gems or must-visit spots you'd recommend to fellow photographers?
There are so many magical spots—I’d have to write a book to include them all! Of course, all the local beaches make my list, with Rodeo Beach being a favorite for photography. I love the vantage points you get from the surrounding cliffs.
And as cliché as it may sound, the Marin Headlands never get old. Some of my most enjoyable sessions have been up there. Beyond the incredible views, I’ve met so many interesting people—fellow photographers, travelers, and locals—who’ve turned into unexpected friendships. I know I’ve said I love the solitude of photography, and that’s still true, but I also appreciate the moments of connection that happen naturally in places like that (as long as I can still avoid the crowds!).
What’s next for you? Any upcoming projects, exhibitions, or creative directions you're excited about?
Yes! I have a lot in the pipeline, and it’s an exciting time creatively. I recently collaborated with an interior designer on a commissioned piece for the SF Showcase, which opens in just a month and a half. It was a project that pushed me outside my comfort zone, but I loved the process—especially the collaboration aspect, which was a refreshing change from the more solitary nature of my usual work.
I’m also gearing up to launch my Morocco collection in the coming weeks, which has been a labor of love. And on the horizon, I’m incredibly excited to be shooting in Indonesia this June, a destination that’s been on my list for a long time. Before that, I’ll also have the chance to expand my Costa Rica portfolio in just a few weeks, which is another place that holds so much inspiration for me.
Lots of movement, lots of creativity, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
