Photos and videos are increasingly used for informational reasons rather than just for pure aesthetic and artistic purposes…Everyone is advertising everything. The idea of getting people to see, engage, and appreciate your still images feels so quaint in 2025.
Creativity and transformation define Logan Swoffer’s artistic journey.
As both a musician and printmaker, his artistic evolution is deeply tied to his lived experiences that were shaped by hardship, discovery, and ultimately, a second chance at life.
His near-death experience in 2023 profoundly changed his perspective, instilling a newfound appreciation for beauty and a drive to create.
Logan was born in Jackson, Michigan, but his journey took an early turn when he moved to Arizona with his mother and stepfather in the fifth grade.
Settling in Deer Creek near Flagstaff, he discovered his passion for music at 14, picking up the guitar and finding that creativity “flipped on like a light switch.” He also dabbled in graffiti and doodling, though his artistic pursuits remained mostly informal at the time.
In 2005, after high school, Logan began traveling back and forth between Arizona and Michigan. Eventually, he and his mother left Arizona for good, escaping a difficult situation with his stepfather. He reconnected with his biological father, a poet and printmaker, and the more time they spent together, the more Logan saw their similarities.
“He was a scoundrel, so I come by that naturally,” he jokes.
His father’s work in printmaking would later become a major influence on Logan’s artistic career.
During this period, Logan became immersed in the local Jackson music scene while working various jobs, including a long stint in medical billing. Music remained a core part of his identity, but his artistic journey had yet to fully take shape.
Years of heavy drinking caught up with Logan in 2023 when he fell critically ill.
At the time, he was working at Unleashed and Loving It when he began experiencing aches and fatigue. Friends and coworkers noticed his declining health, but it wasn’t until his mother intervened that he finally sought medical help.
Doctors diagnosed him with hepatic encephalopathy, a life-threatening condition caused by liver failure. Days away from death, Logan was rushed to Detroit for a liver transplant in May 2023.
Reflecting on this experience, he describes it as a complete transformation.
”I didn’t do a 180; I vanished and came back a different person,” Logan says. “One week you’re going to die, then you go to sleep and wake up a changed person. It’s a beautiful thing.”
His recovery was swift, but the experience left a profound impact on his outlook. Now immunocompromised and managing ongoing health risks, Logan embraces his “new normal” with gratitude and determination.
Following his transplant, Logan found himself drawn to beauty in a way he never had before. Seeing an Instagram post about printmaking ignited a deep passion within him.
“It lit me up like a firecracker,” he says.
Though he had never considered himself a visual artist, he quickly embraced the medium, exploring printmaking, watercolor, and mixed media.
“Maybe I got a bit of my liver donor’s soul, but something changed,” Logan says. “I saw things I didn’t use to see.”
His art often blends delicate floral imagery with bold political statements, advocating for trans rights and marginalized communities.
“Print is the perfect vessel. I can put it up wherever I want. Say what I want. The pointedness is out of necessity,” he says.
While he strives to balance political messages with beauty, he acknowledges that art is a powerful tool for activism.
Logan’s sobriety is deeply tied to his gratitude for the second chance he’s been given.
“I do it out of respect for my donor, who died and gifted me with this new lease on life,” he says.
He has since built a strong community of sober friends who support one another in their shared commitment to a healthier lifestyle. Since January 2024, Logan has been working out of Art 634, where he’s found another supportive and inspiring community.
“You could make art anywhere, but going to a creative space? I just love it here,” he says.
He hopes to contribute to Jackson’s cultural revival by expanding his reach through zines, exhibitions, and collaborative projects.
Looking ahead, Logan remains focused on growing his artistic presence.
“I could’ve gotten into archery or race cars, but I saw that printmaking video, and that’s what stuck,” he says.
Through music and printmaking, Logan channels his gratitude, using art as both a personal outlet and a means to inspire others.
Follow Logan on Instagram | Shop Logan's Store
To be around musicians as they make music? Try new things? Rehearse new songs?
It really is the best thing.
My wife’s band, the Harmony Gardeners, is working on original songs for their summer concert series and a new album. It was fun to grab some rehearsal photos with them in the studio.
Shot on the Canon EOS M and EF-M 22mm f/2.
True solitude is the boredom of hearing nothing but our own voice. That’s an increasingly rare occurrence.
When I worked close to an urban center – Ann Arbor and Albion, Michigan, for instance – exploring neighborhoods was a good way to get out, take a walk, and make photos of what I saw. I do it around my own neighborhood, too.
This style of photography reminds me of something William Eggleston would capture: the everyday life of an American town.
Lately, I’m making my way around local neighborhoods I don’t know well. This one, by the city’s primary high school, took me on streets I’ve never seen. I woke up early on a spring morning and took a walk to see what I could see.
Neighborhoods, with good light, are a constant source of good material. I could do this forever.
Shot with the Canon M6 and EF-M 28mm macro.
Call this a love letter to a 13-year-old camera.
I purchased my Canon EOS M 12 years ago during a Canon fire sale. Very quickly, I appreciated the M’s size, portability, and image quality.
As the years went on, the M was always there. It went everywhere: to the beach, on family trips, on urbex adventures, and in my front seat as I drove around Michigan grabbing anything that caught my eye. The M is still my grab-and-go kit, my reliable everyday carry camera.
Last year, I tried to replace it – first with the M200 and then the M6. But like a comfy, broken-in pair of shoes, I kept the original M out of – what – loyalty? Insecurity?
I’m glad I did, because on my recent Detroit trip, my Canon M6’s shutter button started to malfunction. Then, in a terribly frustrating mishap, I dropped my M6 and the EF-M 22mm on a sidewalk, denting the lens and leaving scuff marks on the M6. I’ll have to replace the lens, which is expected. The drop was my fault. But the M6’s shutter button? It’s a known issue and it hit me at the most inconvenient time while we’re on vacation. Despite my attempts to fix it, the problem is still there, and repairing it will cost more than what the camera is worth.
I tried replacing the OG Canon M. Twice now. But the hits keep on hitting.
The first week I owned the M, back in 2013, I dropped it on a street. I was so mad at myself. Here was this brand-new camera, and I had already tried to wreck it.
Do you know what happened? Nothing. The M has consistently kept shooting ever since. Despite all the drops, all the bangs, all the dust and sand, it just keeps going. In 2013, I wrote:
The camera itself is a solidly-built little instrument. It feels dense, but not heavy, so that it feels like a good, quality hunk of camera.
Here we are, 12 years later, and that sentence is still true. No, the dial pad won’t let you go up in selections anymore, and yes, it flakes out now and again. But I’ll take manageable reliability over a complete lack of functionality during critical times.
I grew to love the M6, too. I love the look, the convenient dials, and the grip. But if the shutter button gives me problems, that becomes a core issue with the camera’s operation.
Luckily, I kept the M. It’s still my everyday carry, it still travels in my vehicle front seat, and it’s still there when I need it. I could replace it with a new-in-box model, and it would probably last me another 12 years. Apart from my Canon 5D mark 1, it’s my favorite camera of all time. I talk lovingly about it in ways film photographers talk about the Leica M2 or M3, or Nikon users talk about the F series.
Canon’s M series is a dead system. I still love it.
I’m not sure where to go from here. But whichever way I go, the Canon M remains by my side.
All images captured on the Canon EOS M and EF-M 22mm f/2.
Black and white is tough.
You’d think shooting monochrome with only two “colors” – black and white – would be easy. But photographers’ opinions on black and white film and presets are almost as strong and varied as their opinions on camera companies.
Canon’s standard monochrome picture profile setting is…fine. It’s just not special or unique.
But thanks to the power of custom picture profiles and film simulations, you can get the look of Kodak T-Max film on your digital Canon EOS camera.
This T-Max film emulation comes from the Vision Wrangler collection – like the previous Kodachrome film style.
I took a sunny, spring evening in downtown Jackson, Michigan, to try out this black and white emulation. Maybe it was the lighting, maybe it was the simulation, but this was good stuff.
For a contrast-y film simulation, this T-Max picture profile was a good walk-around monochrome standard. If you want to shoot JPGs and not worry about editing, this film emulation is reliable and consistent.
My one suggestion with this profile is to try cranking up the ISO setting on your digital Canon to get more of a filmic grain.
But the deep blacks and good microcontrast? It’s all here.
Here’s how to install picture profiles on your own Canon digital camera.
Shot on the Canon EOS M and EF-M 22mm f/2.
I try so hard to not be trendy. But here I am rucking around the neighborhood.
It is good exercise, and I walk all the time anyway.
As my joints ache, I notice that there’s a time of year, in the early spring, when the trees and bushes haven’t budded yet. At the edges of the day, in the morning and evening, the trees cast these stark, defined shadows on buildings.
I tried to think of a name for this phenomenon. The best I could do: bare limb shadows.
Shot on the Canon M6 and EF-M 22mm f/2.
Last year, Jaime and I visited Monterrey, Mexico, for work.
My wife and I have been to Mexico several times, but Monterrey was new for us. On the first day, we visited the Macroplaza – the main square in the heart of the city, home to museums, government buildings, and a riverwalk.
It was busy: tons of people strolling the main plaza, selling goods, and enjoying the city. What’s so fun about traveling is to be a stranger in a strange land, and to observe.
Be there with a camera and capture what’s interesting.
After a river boat ride on the Santa Lucia riverway into Parque Fundidora, we strolled through the Barrio Antigua neighborhood just in time to browse a flea market on the street.
We grabbed dinner and stepped inside the largest antique store we’d ever seen – a multi-story museum of collectibles.
Colors, light, sound, smells – it was a great first day in a new Mexican city.
Photos shot on the Canon M6 and EF-M 32mm and 22mm lenses.
Sharp, colorful, and clear in golden hour – one of my favorite photos from the trip.
Monterrey, Mexico, shot on the Canon M6 and EF-M 32mm f/1.4.
Got to spend my birthday in Ypsilanti on Sunday and check off something on my bucket list:
Meet my wrestling hero, Bret “Hitman” Hart.
We also attended Astronomicon, a wrestling/geek culture convention.
Shot on the Canon EOS M and EF-M 22mm f/2.
Dione Tripp doesn’t just make art—she builds it, reconstructs it, salvages it, and reimagines it.
Growing up in a family of carpenters, inventors, and tinkerers, she was surrounded by the idea that anything could be created with the right tools and vision. Her father was into music, her mother into art, and somewhere in between, Dione found her own voice—one that blends mediums, textures, and emotions into something distinctly her own.
Her artistic journey began with singing, painting, and the idea that she might one day become an art teacher. But she quickly realized her passion wasn’t in teaching—it was in making. Hanging art at the old Thunderbird Café, creating gifts, and submitting pieces for Jackson’s Cool City initiative, she steadily built her presence in the local scene.
Over time, her work evolved beyond traditional canvases into something more layered and more experimental. Even a routine car repair becomes an opportunity. When she gets her brakes changed, she keeps the parts, seeing in them a potential for reinvention.
“How far can you push an object to be a sculpture and not be too crafty?” she asks—a question that continues to shape her process.
Dione pulls from her environment—barn scraps, salvaged materials, even discarded brake parts—to create works that challenge viewers’ perspectives.
“If you’re in a plane, you can see the world differently. I want to express that: the dangers, the fears, the freedom,” she says.
Jackson, Michigan, remains central to her creative world. She studied there, works there, and thrives in its grassroots art community.
“It’s like a blank slate, and we can create our own answers,” she says.
With two to three projects per year, she’s constantly exploring—be it through book illustrations, her new clothing store, or sculptural ideas. While she’s open to branching out, she doesn’t feel limited.
“The only thing limiting me is myself—both in terms of my art and my success,” she says.
Looking ahead, Dione is driven by a desire to amaze herself and find collaborators and appreciators along the way.
“I want to be able to toss ideas around, learn new skills, and try things out,” she says.
Whether it’s trading art, experimenting with new media, or diving deeper into sculpture, she’s on a path of constant evolution—one where every scrap, stroke, and salvaged element has the potential to become something memorable.
Buy the Artists In Jackson book | Artist Dione on Instagram
Now this is more my style
I’m aiming to try out the popular film simulations for Canon cameras – like the popular Fujifilm emulations on the X series cameras. While Canon cameras do not come with film emulations baked in, they are available via Canon’s Picture Style editor and camera profiles.
This Kodachrome-style film simulation comes from Cinescopophila: a giant pack of 150+ picture styles featuring a ton of favorites – almost too many to practically try out. But seeing Kodachrome in the list, I had to give it a spin on a recent trip with the family to Detroit.
Unlike the Fujifilm simulation from Thomas Fransson, these Kodak colors are more my vibe: warmer, much better skin tones, and a healthy amount of contrast.
And those reds? They POP. The greens are nice too. There’s none of that washed-out blandness from the Pro Neigh High series.
Overall, this is a reliable film simulation if you’re a JPG shooter or don’t want to worry about editing. Most of these came out correct as-is, with a little tinkering on a few images for exposure and contrast.
Do these photos mimic Kodachrome? Not really. But for my style of shooting, and even some video, these are a good film-like preset to get you started. With a bit of adjusting, you can get this slide film emulation looking just the way you want.
There are plenty of other Kodachrome versions to try, although many come at a cost. This picture style from Vision Wrangler comes with 150 more to try, with everything from wacky out-there stuff to tried-and-true black and white film emulations.
Ten years ago, I introduced my first big creative portrait project called Artists In Jackson. Through that project, I got to know our local artists. Together, we told their stories and let our community know we have a talented bunch of people right here in our hometown.
And – bonus! – I met and made some good friends along the way.
Since then, a lot has changed. I worked on a spiritual sequel, Musicians In Jackson, and then the pandemic hit. Here we are five years later, and I’m happy to announce I’m working on my next big portrait project, Artists In Jackson 2.
This one will be a little different. Instead of disappearing for six months and re-emerging with a fancy book and a bunch of pictures, I want to treat this project more like a platform.
Here’s how it works:
At a point in time, when I have enough profiles done, I can collect them all and make a book or a ‘zine of some kind.
But that’s not the goal. The goal is to tell stories about creative people in our community.
And I have some profiles already set up to publish – one, reaching back several years, on Dione Tripp (above). Others I have a head-start on and you’ll see those soon. As always, I’m open to your ideas and tips on creative people in and from Jackson.
I hope you’ll join me in this new experiment. I’m excited to once again share these homegrown artists, their work, and their stories.
Get all the details at ArtistsInJackson.com.
The Law of Fuck Yes or No states that when you want to get involved with someone new, in whatever capacity, they must inspire you to say “Fuck Yes” in order for you to proceed with them.
Replace “someone” with “hobby” or “project,” and it becomes a pretty helpful thought exercise.
Took the kids to the Michigan Gem and Mineral Society‘s rock show at the event center this weekend.
One of my favorite photography topics in people showing off their niche. In this case, the stone people were all around us.
I’m more into geology—the study of the Earth’s crust and history. My family? They’re rock nerds.
Shot on the Canon M6 and Viltrox 23mm f/1.4.
I take plenty of people-focused street photographs, but some of my favorite photo outings include urban scenes without people—simply capturing light, shadow, and textures.
“What have people left behind,” Sean asks in this video, which is a great discussion about how street photography can include remnants of people if not people themselves.
So far, so good.
I’ve successfully launched four email newsletters this year. Not bad for starting totally fresh.
Content-wise, I’ve covered everything from sunshine to digicams and shared proud parent moments and books I’m into. Along the way, I’ve also added some new subscribers (thanks!).
Catch some of the action by subscribing here. I hope to see you in your inbox.
This early in March? We Michiganders know better.
Shot on the Canon EOS M and EF-M 22mm f/2.
Our middle daughter, Madelyn, was born to perform.
Last year, she had a starring role in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. And for the past few months, she’s been working on writing and performing her own song for our elementary school’s winter concert.
In late January, she hit the stage – and nailed it.
The whole concert focused on well-being, kindness, and self-realization. Madelyn’s song centered on overcoming anxiety and doing your best in spite of obstacles. She stood there, spotlighted on the stage in front of the whole school, and sang her heart out.
My wife wrote about the community collaboration it took to get this concert up and running with the school’s integrated arts teacher, and the benefits of music for the kids:
The impact of music in elementary education—especially in today’s post-pandemic world—cannot be overstated. Children are facing higher levels of anxiety, decreased attention spans, and increased dependence on screen-based dopamine stimulation. Public schools, now more than ever, need programming that fosters resilience, emotional regulation, and connection.
Don’t we all need a bit more of those, too?
Thankfully, our elementary school was open to the idea, and we saw it pay off at the concert.
It’s a crazy world out there. Thank goodness for music.
I often drive by perfect scenes or interesting settings and add them to my mental “I have to photograph that” list.
My list is pretty long, and the geography of it stretches across counties and even states.
When I’m on the highway, I must drive by this little one-room schoolhouse a thousand times on my way to work. When I do, I think, “I have to grab that little building out in that field.”
Sometimes, the light isn’t right, or I don’t have time on my commute. But on this day I did, so I grabbed an old Nikon D700 we have at work and tromped out into the snowy field to photograph the little schoolhouse around sunset.
One by one, I check these little scenes off my list.
Do you want to know the benefits of being a hobbyist photographer?
No pressure.
No client to please. No money to make. No expectations. No deadlines.
If I’m working on a big portrait project, the only deadlines or expectations are the ones I put on myself. And I do, but no one else knows that. It’s just me.
I can go out on a foggy winter morning, after dropping off the kids at school but before heading to work, and explore. Just me and my own desire to make something, see something, photograph something.
There’s no pressure. And it means everything.
I originally shared a list of projects photographers could tackle during the initial COVID lockdowns five years ago.
In my latest video, I take a colder take on that list, though the advice is the same: take winter time and do some photography maintenance.
My recent trip to Arizona included a stay in a sprawling resort just outside of Phoenix. Throughout the work conference, we never had to leave the place: golf, dinner, swimming, hiking. It was all there.
The sun was also always there, with light bouncing off the faux adobe façades. That, combined with the bright colors, made for a photography feast.
Winter makes the sun a little lower in the sky, meaning there wasn’t a bad time to walk around and make pictures.
And that’s fitting for my way of doing things: I use photography as a way to explore a new place. Walk around, look for good light, capture what I see – that’s 90% of photography for me.
Luckily, I had lots to see and photograph here in Arizona.
Shot on the Canon R.
