The Search Part 1 — Academia

This post is part of a series done for the publisher of my book. See the original here.

In my career, I have done a little bit of everything.

Professionally, I have degrees in computer science and math. I started my PhD in computer graphics. I developed desktop apps and mobile apps. I worked in machine learning and published papers on biodiagnostics – work that my university selected me as a "World Changer" for, showcasing me on promotional material and nominating me for scholarships. I worked on graphics card architectures. I studied signed distance fields. I wrote papers on programming languages, compilers, user interfaces, and developer experience. I presented and gave talks at numerous meetings and events. I was paid to do my bachelor's, and I was paid to do my PhD.

Most people would say I was doing rather well. Most people did say I was doing well. But while my career was, I was not. Some of it was enjoyable, but I wasn’t interested in the science. Something was missing.

I became interested in photography when I was 16 on a university study tour in Italy. I was there to take a religion class. I was still in high school, making me the youngest person out of maybe 20 students and 5 professors. One of the professors sat next to me during a dinner. He invited me on a nightly walk with some other students which I tried to decline with excuses like being sore from the hiking we had done. He insisted, saying that he and everyone else was also sore. So, I felt I had no choice but to join.

On the walk were some architecture students. One student brought his "fancy" camera and told me about it. He let me look at it, then the conversation moved on. My class required me to take pictures every day, and I was using my phone. But the $300 camera of the architecture student was stuck in my mind. I wondered what such a camera was capable of.

When I got back home, I bought a camera of my own. The following year, I returned to Italy where I shot cropped jpegs with my kit lens. While I had no idea what I was doing, I enjoyed taking pictures. And when I got home, I further enjoyed editing them. This was the extent of my photography until I was 19.

After yet another trip to Italy, this time meeting a photographer with a "real" camera, I purchased a DSLR and lenses, and I added a photography minor to my studies.

For all my academic achievements, studying art was a humbling experience. For my first ever assignment, I simply didn't know what to do. I walked around my house, then my backyard, then a nature preserve. I had one week to take four photos. I couldn't come up with anything except for lackluster pictures of flowers and leaves. The following assignments went just as poorly.

Seeing the other students' work, I wasn't sure how to feel. Some had good work, others not so much. But I certainly felt like mine did not hold up. I got the worst grades of my life in that class. I thought about dropping the minor. But one classmate told me how she just tried to keep her images simple – and her work was easily the best in the class. So, I copied her style.

It took me two years to find my own niche in photography, but I persisted until I was happy with my work. The whole process instilled in me an appreciation for art. Given that I was studying computer science, I decided I wanted to learn about the field of computer graphics – I wanted to study the process of making art with computers. My journey with that is a story of its own, but it ended with me being accepted into an excellent PhD program with an excellent offer.

But when the time came for me to propose my research ideas, I was consistently told one thing: "There's no funding in that." However, my advisor had a project of his own that I joined. It was my only real option. All the while, I continued fleshing out my more art-focused ideas with the hope of changing my advisor's mind. I proposed it three different times. The last time, he recommended that I contact another professor. It didn't work out.

I was in the PhD program for two semesters. I did not enjoy the courses I was required to take or the research I was doing. It was a miserable year that made me question my career choices. Not only was the work unenjoyable, I was seeing a side of academia that did not bode well for my future. My whole life, the only real goal I ever had was to get my PhD and become a professor. I even had an offer to be a professor. All I had to do was finish the program.

But did I really want to spend five more years of my life like that? I didn't. So I took a one-year leave of absence and moved back home. I had only one thing on my mind: art. I tried working on my ideas, but there was only so much I could do – not to mention the lack of direction and motivation. To help, I picked up reading for the first time since high school. This strengthened my interest in the humanities and quickly became a major influence in my life as will be detailed in the next installment.

The previous year, I had wanted to spend my summer in Iceland to do photography, but the war in Ukraine made me put off those plans. Now that I was free, however, I had the crazy idea to simply move to Iceland permanently. I figured I should take advantage of my freedom to go out and pursue my passions.

I applied for domicile, bought a one-way ticket, and found a place to stay in Iceland’s northernmost town. Without any plan at all.