The Story in My Voice
By Nathaniel Flauger | Eternal Moment Photography
I never set out to be a photographer. Not in the traditional sense.
My journey began in the middle of something else entirely—finishing my degree in hospitality management at Fox Valley Tech. At 34, I walked across the stage with my classmates. But instead of a diploma, I received an empty folder. I was missing one final credit: my internship. And that missing credit, that empty space in my hands, turned out to be the moment that redirected my life.
I tried to make it work. I interviewed for management jobs. One in particular—two hours long, six people across the table—I thought I nailed it. I was one of the final two candidates, and I didn’t get picked. That rejection hit hard. But it also cracked something open. I realized I didn’t want the life I was chasing. Hospitality was never really me. I didn’t want to spend weekends in restaurants. I wanted to build something real, something grounded in presence, creativity, and connection.
That’s when I bought my first camera.
I still remember writing up my first business plan. I called it Eternal Beauty Photography. I had big ideas—seniors, weddings, events—trying to specialize in everything without knowing much about photography, just knowing that I had a keening for it. I filed my LLC as a student and took advantage of the waived fee. That business plan was all over the place, but it was the seed of something real.
Since then, I’ve learned fast—because life made me. I shot my friend’s wedding. I photographed chamber events and gave people headshots that made them say, “I’ve never liked pictures of myself… until now.” That’s when it clicked: my mobile studio was more than a setup—it was a service people needed. A niche that could grow if I believed in it. And I do.
But building a business takes time. And in the in-between, I had to find ways to keep going.
After the summer ended in 2024, I worked for a few months with Mosquito Squad—spraying properties with mosquito repellent. It was a job, it paid the bills. Then fall came, and I landed a seasonal role as a school photographer. I won’t name the company, but let’s just say—it taught me what kind of photographer I didn’t want to be. It was production work at its worst. But still, it gave me the experience of directing people and being behind the camera under pressure.
When that gig ended, I needed something fast. I walked into Camera Casino in Oshkosh one day, just looking for a reflector… and I walked out with a job. That’s how life moves sometimes. The store’s been part of Oshkosh for over 50 years, and working there gave me access to gear, knowledge, and a community of photographers who know their craft. The owner was gracious—offering me discounts that saved me hundreds of dollars and helped build the kit I use today.
But over the past few months, I’ve come to realize something important:
I love photography—but I don’t love selling cameras.
And that’s okay. That job served its purpose. It gave me tools, confidence, and clarity. But now, I know where I want to put my energy: into creating, not just selling.
Along the way, I’ve leaned on mentors. I reached out to the photographer who took my senior portraits—Todd. We’ve become close friends. And through him, I met Alan “Fuzzy” Duenkel, an award-winning photographer from West Bend. Fuzzy’s the kind of artist who’s more interested in legacy than ego. He’s teaching not to build a course, but to keep the art of real portraiture alive.
This journey has had its moments of failure, uncertainty, and quiet victories. I still have that empty diploma. And my graduation cap? It sits on top of a canvas print of a lion. Because sometimes I tell people I graduated. And in a way—I did. I just graduated into something bigger than a degree.
I graduated into myself.
Now I shoot with professional Sony gear, lighting by Godox, Rogue, and ProMaster, and a mobile setup that lets me meet people where they are—physically and emotionally.
I don’t just want to create images that look good.
I want to create images that feel true.
Because in a world full of filters, distractions, and pressure to perform, authenticity is a superpower.
That’s what this blog is for.
To share the story in my voice.
To tell the truth behind the lens.
To invite you into the moments that made me—and the ones we’ll create together.
Thanks for being here.
Thanks for being part of this story.
—Nathaniel