Martina Prsa

My award-winning works come from two very different yet deeply connected places within my creative process. Reflect into Darkness was inspired by the idea of duality—the visible and the hidden, the surface and what lies beneath. I was drawn to the simplicity of form and reflection, and to the way something minimal can still carry profound emotional depth. It is a quiet, introspective piece. The Diva has a different origin. It began as a painting, which I later transformed into a photographic work through my creative process. This piece allowed me to merge traditional art with photography, exploring expression, identity, and presence in a more layered way. It reflects my interest in moving beyond a single medium and using photography as a space where different forms of art can meet. Winning this award with two such distinct works means a great deal to me. It validates not only my versatility but also my desire to experiment and push beyond the boundaries between disciplines. It gives me the confidence to continue trusting my intuition and evolving freely as an artist.

Choosing which work to submit is a very intuitive process for me. I don’t rely solely on technical perfection—I look for an image that evokes a strong emotional response and stays with me long after I have stepped away from it. Usually, it is the photograph I keep returning to, the one that creates a certain emotional tension or quiet presence. I ask myself whether it can stand on its own without explanation and whether it invites viewers to experience something personal. I also consider how the image reflects my artistic voice. Rather than trying to fit a particular trend or category, I choose the work that feels most authentic to me in that moment. In the end, it is about trust—trusting my instincts and allowing the image to speak for itself.

I first picked up a camera to photograph the handmade beaded jewelry I was creating at the time. It began simply as a way to document my work. Before long, however, I found myself drawn beyond the objects themselves. I became fascinated by how light, composition, and perspective could completely transform even the smallest detail. What started as documentation soon became a process of exploration. That curiosity led me deeper into photography, eventually evolving into a true passion and a form of artistic expression. I realized that through the camera, I was not simply capturing objects—I was creating mood, emotion, and atmosphere.

I am especially drawn to fine art photography that focuses on light, detail, and atmosphere. I enjoy working with close-up and minimalist compositions, where even the smallest element can carry a strong emotional presence. At the same time, photographing horses is a very important part of my work. As a rider myself, I have developed a deeper understanding of their movement, sensitivity, and character. There is something incredibly powerful and authentic in their presence—a natural elegance and emotion that I experience both as a rider and as a photographer. What I love most about photography is its ability to transform both subtle details and a powerful living presence into something more poetic. For me, it is always about emotion, whether it emerges from a minimalist scene or a compelling subject.

My go-to setup is a Canon EOS 90D, usually paired with a 50mm prime lens, a macro lens, or a telephoto zoom, depending on the subject I am photographing. What matters most to me is flexibility and control, which is why I always shoot in manual mode. It allows me to fully shape the image—from light and depth to mood—instead of relying on automatic settings. Especially when working with natural light or challenging conditions, manual mode gives me the freedom to adapt intuitively. My favorite feature, if I can call it that, is precisely this sense of control. Being able to consciously adjust every element of the exposure helps me translate what I feel into the final image. It makes the process more intentional and more closely connected to my vision.

If someone looks at my work, I want them to lose themselves in it for a moment—to step away from reality and enter a different space. I hope they can discover their own story within the image, something personal that resonates with their emotions or memories. I do not want to dictate what they should see or feel. Instead, I aim to create a space where they can pause, reflect, and immerse themselves in their own interpretation.

It is difficult for me to identify a single challenge, because my process is highly intuitive and often driven more by inspiration than by obstacles. I am usually inspired in the moment of creation, but a significant part of my process takes place later, when I review the images on my computer. That is often when I truly recognize their potential and begin shaping them into something more powerful. It is during this stage that I transform a simple capture into a finished work with greater emotional and visual impact. Rather than pointing to one specific challenge, I would describe the process as an evolution—from instinct, to discovery, to transformation.

I am inspired by whatever captures my attention in the moment. It may be a small detail, a particular quality of light, or a quiet atmosphere—something that resonates with me instinctively, without overthinking it. That said, horses hold a very special place in both my work and my life. They inspire me not only visually but emotionally as well. There is a depth, sensitivity, and strength in them that I find incredibly moving, and I am continually drawn to capturing that presence through my photography.

I do not have one specific person or artist whom I would consider my greatest influence. Instead, I focus on developing my own voice and continually growing with every image I create. For me, the process is deeply personal. I am inspired more by the act of seeing, feeling, and evolving than by following a particular style or direction. Each photograph is an opportunity to learn something new and take another step toward expressing my vision more clearly.

Photography awards can be a powerful source of motivation and encouragement. They provide a sense of direction and reassurance that you are on the right path. For me, they are not only about recognition but also about growth. They encourage you to reflect on your work, select your strongest images, and present your vision with purpose. My advice is to approach them with authenticity. Choose the work that truly represents who you are, rather than what you think will win. When your work is honest, it carries far greater impact.

Don’t be afraid to start and make mistakes. They are a natural and necessary part of the creative process. In the beginning, it is easy to doubt yourself or feel that your work is not good enough, but every photograph you take is a step forward. The most important thing is to keep going, keep experimenting, and allow yourself the freedom to grow. Over time, those mistakes become your greatest teachers, helping you develop your own unique perspective and way of seeing.

Editing and post-processing play a very important role in my creative workflow. As an artist, I see photography as more than simply capturing a moment—it is the beginning of a creative journey. I enjoy taking a simple, ordinary image and transforming it into something more: a story, a mood, or an emotional experience. This is where my artistic vision truly comes to life. Through editing, I shape the atmosphere, enhance the emotion, and bring the image closer to what I imagined or felt in that moment. For me, it is not merely a technical step but an essential part of the creative process.

I see technology, including AI, as a tool—a creative companion rather than a replacement. It can offer new possibilities, help streamline certain processes, and open the door to experimentation. At the same time, I believe the heart of photography will always remain human: the emotion, vision, and intention behind the image. In my own work, I see it as a complement to the creative process rather than a substitute for it. The essence of what I create comes from within, and that is something no technology can truly replicate.

I believe that when I find the right subject, I will simply know. For me, it has never been about a specific person or place, but rather a feeling—that moment when something truly resonates. When that connection occurs, it often feels as though the subject finds me rather than the other way around.