Today we’d like to introduce you to A.C. Bullard.
Hi A.C., please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
I grew up in a family that documented everything – and I mean everything, from weddings and funerals to birthdays, even random Tuesdays. I think something about that constant picture-taking stuck with me from a young age, and I was always trying to get my hands on a camera. I was in an environment that truly believed every moment was “picture worthy,” and that taught me a lot about the act of documenting, and not just as an act of remembering but as an act of preservation. It showed me the power in having physical records of your origins, of where we come from, who we come from, how we love, and how we exist.
Because there were always stacks of photographs around, lingering over an image would always lead to a story. We’d sit for hours listening to my mom, grandparents, and uncles share their lives, reminisce about our childhoods, and loved ones who were no longer with us. Those moments really changed how I saw images. They showed me what a single photo can do, what it holds. It can tell your whole life story, take you back to a long-forgotten place or feeling, and let you hold onto someone or someplace a little longer… if you let it. While I can’t pinpoint the exact moment it clicked, I just knew that’s what I wanted to do. Now, my work heavily centers around human life and interaction, which I truly believe is the most beautiful thing in the world.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
Choosing to become a photographer was one of the hardest—and most courageous—decisions I’ve made. My connection to photography and storytelling is really personal. It’s how I process the world and express myself in a way that feels the most honest. But with that comes a kind of vulnerability—because when you ask people to really see your work, you’re also asking them to see you.
A lot of the projects I’ve worked on, especially outside of my more documentary-style images, come from my own experiences. These aren’t just stories I’m telling for others—they’re offerings. What I mean by that is: I’m offering an intimate look into how I think, see, and move through the world. That kind of openness makes space for connection. My goal is always to create as freely and genuinely as possible, with the hope that by being honest in my work, others might feel a little more connected to it—and to themselves. And in that, maybe even to me.
That level of sharing can be difficult. One of the biggest struggles has been learning to create without imposing limits on myself and drowning out the noise—reminding myself that there’s no single “right” way to tell a story. It’s a constant process of establishing trust—both in the work, and in myself.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
As a photographer, I primarily work with 35mm film and shoot exclusively in Black and White. I’m drawn to the complexity of B&W photography—it forces the viewer to focus on the image itself, without the distraction of color. While color photography can be beautiful, there’s something about Black and White that feels more intimate, almost like it speaks directly to the soul.
I’m proud of all my work, even though that may sound odd. Each image tells a different story, and each one holds a unique piece of me. Shooting primarily in B&W allows me to capture the layers and nuances of life in a way that feels true to the world I see.
A project I’m particularly proud of is titled “The Anatomy of Flesh and Bones.” Last summer, during my residency at Crosstown Arts in Memphis, I previewed this series during our open studios. The project is centered around the complicated relationship we have with our bodies, and how that relationship shapes our perception of the world. For me, it was deeply personal. The longest relationship I’ve had has been with my own body—and despite how well I clothed her, it was her bare appearance that rattled me most. In moments where I neglected her, I allowed her to overindulge in whatever she saw fit, trying to overcompensate for my own emotional neglect. This lack of empathy led to years of holding in sadness and repressed anger.
The images I shared were of close-up of skin, flesh, and of bodies that lived, loved, and been free in ways society often says they shouldn’t. These bodies had been made to think that they weren’t “the standard,” and I wanted to document that freedom. Seeing those images spark real dialogue and receive praise during the open studio was one of the proudest moments of my career at the time. It wasn’t just about the praise; it was about how the project started important conversations about body image, self-acceptance, and vulnerability.
What sets me apart is the rawness and authenticity of my work. It’s unpolished, often imperfect, and not always technically flawless, but that’s exactly what I love about it. Like the people I photograph, life is sometimes messy, sometimes dull, but always real. I find so much beauty in that—the everyday moments, the quiet, the unspectacular—and I believe those moments deserve to be celebrated, not just the glossy, idealized versions of life we’re often shown.
Can you talk to us a bit about the role of luck?
I do consider myself a lucky person, but when it comes to my craft, I believe a lot of it has to do with timing rather than pure chance. There have been plenty of moments where I’ve experienced a bit of good luck—like when my camera decided to stop working right after a shoot, rather than before, or when I’ve forgotten a roll of film and magically found an extra one in my bag or car just when I needed it. Those moments feel like small gifts, like the universe aligning just enough to get me through.
But beyond those little coincidences, I don’t think my success has been about luck. I truly believe that everything that’s come my way has happened because it was meant to, not by chance. I’ve worked hard to create my own opportunities, and when the right ones have come along, I’ve been ready to take them. Timing has been key—sometimes things fall into place at just the right moment, and I think that’s because I’ve been putting in the effort, staying open to what comes next, and trusting the process by being patient.
Luck has for sure given me small moments of relief or convenience, but I don’t depend on it.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.acbullard.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/acbull_/
- Other: https://open.spotify.com/user/yo__mina?si=1KtDkYttTS6Md7hx_BRLZQ&nd=1&dlsi=ffc2ca2080404c2a
