I actually HATE photography.
The act of taking pictures feels like a chore. But despite my other jobs, responsibilities and priorities, I shoot because it’s the only thing that makes me feel seen, present, undeniable.
If I don’t, I disappear.
The shutter clicks, and for a fleeting moment, I am in control. The world bends to my eye, to my hand, to the way I see it. There’s a rhythm to it, a pulse that beats in sync with something deeper than words. This isn’t love—love is too soft for what this is. It’s survival. A fixation. An obsession. A way to translate the things I cannot say, the ghosts I cannot shake.
People ask why I picked up a camera so suddenly, why I chase this craft like my life depends on it.
And the truth is—it lowkey does.
I’ve felt lost my entire life and never felt a sense of purpose or motivation to drive me towards anything. I hopped on other people’s waves or took a backseat putting criticism on everyone else because deep down I was unhappy with my own lack of direction. But then this GIFT came about out of NOWHERE and never have I ever once felt so inspired - unafraid of doing things wrong and failing as I have when this came into my life.
Photography isn’t a career, a hobby, or even a passion for me. It’s the vessel where my spite, my vengeance, my pettiness, my need to prove people wrong—and prove myself wrong—take form. Every doubt, every lack of belief in every other area of my life disappears the moment I lock in behind the lens.
It all started in heartbreak. Not the kind that stings for a few months, but the kind that guts you, hollows you out, makes you question who you are. The kind that makes you wonder if you’ll ever piece yourself back together again.
I have been betrayed in ways that could turn a lesser man bitter. I have been made to feel invisible, replaceable, unworthy—by family, friends, loved ones. My whole life, I was the outsider—the one overlooked, not taken seriously, “less than”, boxed in, defined by other people’s assumptions of what I was capable of. I have had love turned against me, warped into something unrecognizable.
I have lost pieces of myself that I will never get back.
So I create to reclaim what was taken from me.
I shoot because there are nights I lay awake, haunted by the weight of things I cannot change. I wonder if there was ever a version of my story where I could have remained untouched and unscathed.
Because when the past reaches for me, I need something tangible to hold onto—something that reminds me I am still here, broken but present - That I am still fighting.
The world has tried to erase me, discredit me, dismiss me; making me believe that there was never going to be a space in it for me. My images are proof that I refuse to disappear. To engrain myself in the ether with my art even for a brief moment in the fast-paced passing nature of social media and the internet. People from the beginning always told me about these “rules” of photography or how I’m shooting the wrong way - but because I am just winging it and learning as I go, I realized my limitations and intention to ‘break the rules’ allows my art to have it’s own unique aesthetic that can’t be replicated. Every emotion, every wound, every lesson—it’s all imprinted in my images.
When I look back at photos of myself from before November 1st, 2023 (my 29th birthday and the day I told myself I’m ALL-IN on photography), there’s an ache in my chest I can’t quite name. I see someone unburdened by self-doubt, someone who hadn’t yet learned how cruel people could be. I see a version of me who still trusted in the good in humanity—pure and innocent.
But that person no longer exists.
And maybe he needed to go away. Maybe that’s what my blonde hair and tattoos represents—the shedding of the old me.
Maybe I had to break to become something new. Maybe that’s why I claim my real government name ERIC THE DUONG so hard now instead of hiding behind these other monikers—because this identity is mine and always has been. Something I once avoided and was embarrassed by, but now know is everything I hope to be and more.
I don’t TAKE photos—I MAKE worlds.
My photos aren’t about capturing what’s real and rooted in reality - they’re about capturing what it FEELS like. The textures, the saturation, the composition, the colors, etc. all to highlight how my mental state is at that current moment of editing. A direct reflection of that moment in time where life is suspended in stillness and it’s just me pouring my heart and soul into a Lightroom/Photoshop edit.
It has been about filling the void, about giving form to the pain I could never speak or share. Taking pictures is like prepping the canvas, but editing? That’s where I paint. That’s where I breathe life into the image, where I carve out the emotion I need to see. To be different, to stand out, to be unique - to be ME so hard that when someone sees a photo of mine they’ll be like “oh that’s Eric’s isn’t it?!”
It’s been just over a year, but the better I got, the more people around me moved differently—out of their own insecurities, their own ego. Friends grew distant. Peers who once dismissed me started whispering my name, sometimes in admiration, sometimes in resentment. Some people hated to see the transformation, the confidence, the self-belief I carry now.
And that’s fine.
At 30 years old, I had never truly trusted myself. Every decision, every move—I second-guessed it, let doubt creep in, let other people’s opinions weigh more than my own. But now? Now, I have something that gives me an ego—to be the main character and not just another 9-5 NPC. Good or bad, it fuels me. It pushes me. It reminds me that for the first time in my life, I don’t need anyone else’s validation. And even in that, I compare myself to other photographers around me DAILY and I always keep that competitive nature to get better (because imagine surrounding yourself with people who are worse than you and you claim you the “best” lol weak!) but never putting others down and ALWAYS letting my work do the talking - I trust my vision more than anything else and at the bare minimum, I have to be BETTER than those who have done me wrong.
I started noticing other photographers talk about their "why." For many, it could be a creative outlet, a means for validation, to hit on girls, to have a side gig.
And at the time, it made me LIVID.
Because for me, this was never about any of those things—it was about reclamation. Those who know, KNOW but for me it was always about trust and proving how cold I am. I realized early on that there were so many who claimed to be “photographers” but didn’t have that drive and hunger like me. It’s me seeing these so-called “photographers” on Instagram early on get so big-headed over these basic, soulless photos—acting like they’re Paolo Roversi or Nick Night, but with the most replicable “been there done that” aesthetic. They try to say they can do every style, every technique, stretching themselves thin instead of honing in on a niche, refining a voice, developing a signature - doing too much yet nothing at all; directionless and afraid. Afraid to commit to something real. Afraid to push boundaries. Afraid to be different. Instead, they conform—playing it safe, chasing trends, feeding off the 3-4 fire emoji comments they get on their posts rather than seeing photography as art. A little following, a little attention—and suddenly, they think they’re untouchable. But when I look at their work, I’m like, “I can do what you do in my sleep - Why are you not setting yourself apart? Why are you so scared to be authentic to you?”
It was about being better than the weirdo photographers who would shoot with my ex but touch on her, say sexual things, make her take her clothes off - all to end up with photos that are garbage. It was about seeing a “real photographer” with the best equipment but the most MID and GENERIC photos with no soul and doing everything I can to show that I, as an “amateur” photographer, will SH!T all over their work with my hustle, my sauce, my vision. It was about rebuilding my soul from the ground up by impressing myself before anyone else sees the pictures and trusting my gut in every sense—accepting that I have sauce and that I am UNAPOLOGETIC in my output.
One of my mentors always told me “why compete when you don’t compare” - I feel like it’s time for me to leave the nest and see if I’m able to spread my wings. Hopefully to fly but for sure to be that small fish in the big pond again. To be challenged to prove to myself that I can be bigger than just Austin, TX. That I could accomplish more than I can imagine and do unthinkable things but it starts with me surrounding myself with the GREATS. The creatives that make me look at myself and question my skillsets. The people whose work I am mindblown by and can’t comprehend their techniques. To be the worst in the room to push me to my limits to attempt to get on a different plateau I’ve yet to experience.
I shoot because I believe in kinetic energy—the energy of an object in motion. That I can build a following by being true to my vision and ride on the momentum of my work. That nothing can stop me if I’m dead set on my path ready to obliterate anything that gets in my way. I cut off my own Grandma for doubting me so anything else I had to get over was chump change.
There was a time when I thought my life had ended the moment my evil ex broke my heart. Or when I literally almost lost my life in a car accident for another worthless ex because I prioritized her more than myself.
But the irony of it all is that through photography (did not expect this one in the Eric The Duong Healing Bingo Card) —that’s when my life actually started.
For the first time ever, I feel alive. I can connect with others. I belong.
And because I felt this shift, I started to see people—even those close to me—for who they really were. I see how people rot in their comfort, blaming everyone but themselves. How they blame others for their own shortcomings. How they refuse to take accountability. How they aren’t honest with others and themselves. A sense of entitlement they have that makes me sick when I’ve barely been able to move with as little as a Lay’s potato chip on my shoulder. (Kendrick Lamar got yall F**ked up thinking you deserve it all when NOBODY deserves SH!T)
And I refuse to be like them.
I move. I create. I make mistakes. I evolve.
And for me, photography is proof that I am here, that I am human, that I will never fade.
I am perfect because I am imperfect.
Photography saved my life and gave me life. And because of that, I can say with full confidence that I am a better man, a better friend, a better son, a better brother, and a better person overall. It has forced me to become self-aware—of my insecurities, my triggers, my wounds, and my strengths. It has helped me find beauty in myself through self-portraits, to see myself clearly, flaws and all, and to recognize that while I am far from perfect, that’s what makes the process so fulfilling. That I’ve only scratched the surface and there’s so much more out there for me to learn and get better at.
It has given me a deeper understanding of my identity as a Southern Vietnamese American man, someone who grew up in a small Texas town immersed in Black culture and never felt like he fully belonged anywhere, but in that lack of belonging, realized that he could be anything. It’s helped me understand SCARCITY where if I make myself too available to everyone, then they won’t value me and my work. But if getting to book a shoot with ERIC THE DUONG is damn near impossible, then it gives me leverage to shoot ONLY what fulfills me with people feening for their chance to work with me.
It has helped me to love LOVE again (even though I’m a hater haha) - of all forms. To celebrate my own cultural background and identity while also embracing the cultures of others. It’s helped me venture out into other creative mediums like writing (aka documented yapping as I am now) music (go Stream FANTASEE), video (go watch FANTASEE), modeling, acting, etc. and be unafraid in those as well. It’s helped me learn to experience life, try new things, and do everything I’m capable of because life is short and inspiration can come from anything. It’s helped me see how I love to see others geek out about things that I know nothing about because I know their hearts are full like how mine is with this gift. It has helped me understand dating and relationships in a way I never did before, desexualizing women, not putting women on a pedestal, and allowing me to separate my personal life from my craft and set boundaries that keep both aspects of my life intact. Because of photography, I learned to no longer allow people to waste my time, use me and not appreciate my efforts. Photography has taken me all over the world, meeting the most amazing people and will continue to open doors as long as I allow my heart to be inspired.
I’ve learned who is truly in my corner and who was only around for convenience or only when I benefit them. I’m more intentional with my friendships now because I’m able to let people into my world and be vulnerable - focusing on surrounding myself with people that want the best for me and vice versa. I’ve deepened my relationship with my family, realizing that my parents are proud of me, that they support me in all my endeavors because they know I am living my own version of the American Dream—the exact reason they sacrificed everything to come here.
For me, this journey has even been a spiritual awakening—so deep it has made me believe in God. I’ve NEVER been religious and even certain He didn’t exist. However, I can’t explain how I create the things I do or how I got “so good”. I just know that when I pick up my camera, when I sit down to edit, when I shape a vision from nothing, it doesn’t feel like just me. It feels like something bigger, something unseen, moving through me—guiding my hands, whispering in the shadows of my work.
When I create, I feel Him.
I don't know what the future holds, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.
The next few months are about to bring some of the biggest changes of my life, and stepping into the unknown is always uncomfortable.
But I know I can’t stay where it’s safe.
Growth demands discomfort.
And I’m ready to dive into the abyss.