Leah Fasten on AI, Photography, and Why You Should Just Go Make Freaking Great Work
Field Notes from the Intersection of Photography & AI
Leah Fasten is one of my most favorite photographers and and when I first started experimenting with AI image generation, I felt like I was standing at the edge of something both terrifying and exhilarating. I had questions. I had doubts. I had this gut feeling that something important was happening, but I didn’t quite know how to navigate it or if I even should.
And then I sat down with Leah Fasten.
Leah has been one of the most important inspirations in my journey with AI. She’s Bay Area based photographer who’s been documenting life for decades, but more than that, she’s someone who is so observant and passionate about image making. She was experimenting with generative AI before most of us even knew what it was, building communities, making work that challenges what we think photography can be.
What I love most about Leah is her unflinching honesty and how she makes magic with her camera and with AI. She doesn’t sugarcoat the hard parts - the copyright concerns, the ethical questions, the constant exhaustion of relearning tools. But she also refuses to let fear win. She’s been the permission I needed to lean into the weird, the experimental, the edge work that makes me feel alive as a photographer again.
I interviewed her because I wanted to talk to someone who understands both the craft of photography and the wild frontier of what’s coming next. Leah showed up with her usual mix of wisdom, provocation, and creative fire.
Here’s what we talked about: her journey from teenage photo taking to AI experimentation, what she’d say to photographers who are scared, and why the “middle ground” is exactly where you don’t want to be right now.
Sarah: So you started with photography as a teenager, but it wasn’t really about traditional photography, was it?
Leah: No, not at all. I was obsessed with documenting time. I took a black and white photography class in high school, but I didn’t fall in love with the creation of making black and white prints. That wasn’t the photography I loved. I loved my snapshots. The photos I took of my friends of my life. I loved documenting everything about my life. It was always about recording of time, not the actual formal practice of taking photos.
Sarah: When did AI enter the picture?
Leah: During the pandemic, probably 2021. I started experimenting with Runway, thinking about making NFTs for a flower series I was working on. But making a data set, training models? It was so hard and expensive back then. I paused until late 2022, then got into Stable Diffusion, then Python. Now I’m using Midjourney, Nano Banana and Adobe Firefly Boards.
Sarah: What changed for you with AI?
Leah: Two things. First, AI helped me navigate my ADHD and actually build business structures. It made my life and job feel possible in a way they hadn’t before. But the real “aha moment” was in early 2023 when I started creating AI images that looked like what I’d shoot with a camera. That was profound. I realized: this is going to change photography the way film to digital did. The process was labor-intensive at first, but I knew technology would make it easier. And it has.
Sarah: What does your workflow look like now?
Leah: Right now? Midjourney, Firefly boards, Nano Banana. But I hesitate to even say that because it changes so fast. That’s honestly one of the biggest drawbacks of using AI: constantly having to relearn apps and platforms. I just want to focus on the creative act.
Sarah: A lot of photographers are apprehensive about using AI. What would you say to them?
Leah: Look, I understand the legitimate arguments. Photographers who use the camera as a “tool of permission” to go out into the world and interact with people, that’s real, and it matters. And the copyright stuff? That’s valid too. Foundation models probably used copyrighted work illegally, without time for compensation or recourse.
But here’s the thing: an artist’s job is to use the tools around them to create. So if you’re scared of AI, then you have two choices. Either use it to make something terrifying, powerful, emotionally devastating. Or refuse to touch it and make images that are so stinking human, so real, that no AI or artist using AI could ever replicate them.
Sarah: Where does that leave commercial work?
Leah: The middle commercial ground - those safe, mediocre images? That’s where AI will take over. You have to push your vision and voice to a place generative AI can’t reach. And that’s actually exciting. Good creative work happens out on the edges. There’s a time for being in the middle for commercial success, sure. But if you’re worried about AI, you better be making something remarkable.
Sarah: How has AI changed how you see yourself as a photographer?
Leah: It’s given me permission to think of myself as more of a studio photographer. I’ve always been a lifestyle photographer - capturing magic “out in the world.” But generative AI brought this improvisational energy to studio work. Suddenly I could make imaginary, impossible things. It made studio photography feel less predictable, more alive.
Sarah: Tell me about your journaling practice with AI.
Leah: I’ve been journaling for decades. Now I use fragments from those journals as prompts for Midjourney. At first, I was trying to make the images look less generic - using messy, hacky prompts. Then mood boards came in, and I’d drop in images that evoke the same emotional reaction as my freewriting. I do this two or three times a week. It’s become its own practice.
Sarah: Were you nervous about publicly embracing AI?
Leah: Absolutely. I was worried about emotional pushback from the photo world and clients. I’ve got 20 years of established work - I didn’t want that questioned. I even co-founded a generative AI community that grew to 3,000 people before I handed it over, but I stayed quiet publicly for a while. But the market has shifted. Clients are interested now. They want to expand image libraries with AI. They’re consuming high-quality generative work without even realizing it.
Sarah: What do you hope your work communicates to people?
Leah: I hope it gives people bravery to make their own remarkable work. When you look at moving work, it gives you permission to try something you haven’t thought of. It inspires you to make something new. That’s what I want.
Sarah: Last question: what’s your advice to photographers right now?
Leah: Go freaking make great work. I don’t care if you use generative tools or not. But you can’t stay in the middle anymore. Either lead and teach others about the creative path, or learn the technology and make something incredible. The opportunity right now is huge - AI has amplified the level of unintentional mediocre work out there, which means the space for transformative, powerful, remarkable work is wide open.
And honestly? The conversation about generative AI can’t move forward until we figure out the tension around what we perceive as “truth” in photographs. People believe photographs are truth, and they see AI as a lie. But artists have always been “liars” - we copy, steal, transform. The truth lives in the space between the artist and the art. You can achieve that with generative AI too.
Leah Fasten launched a brilliant Substack called “Okay Unscripted” where she shares her writings with the help of AI. Follow her work at leahfasten.com and hire her for all things AI and photography related, she’s amazing!