Meet Molly Polus | Freelance Photographer

We had the good fortune of connecting with Molly Polus and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Molly, we’d love to hear more about how you thought about starting your own business?
Starting my own business wasn’t something I planned—it happened organically, almost by accident. At the time, I was working full-time at Apple and attending the University of North Texas, where I studied psychology and sociology. Photography started as a creative outlet in 2019, something I picked up because I wanted to try something new and express myself in a different way. I didn’t have any grand ambitions for it; it was simply a way to explore the world and capture moments that felt meaningful to me. I taught myself photography by watching YouTube tutorials, experimenting with my camera, and learning through trial and error. I’d wander the streets of Dallas with my camera and headphones, finding beauty in the ordinary and slowly developing my own style. At the start, street photography became my way of seeing the world differently, of noticing the small, quiet moments that often go unnoticed.

When the pandemic hit, the streets emptied, and life shifted indoors. I found myself drawn to documenting the stillness and solitude of a city that had suddenly paused. It was during this time that I deepened my practice, learning to find emotion in silence and honing my ability to tell stories through imagery. Still, I had no connections to the photo industry, barely knew other photographers, and had no clear path forward—it was just me, my camera, and a growing passion.

Friends would often tell me, “You should figure out a way to get paid for this,” but I was hesitant. I had a deep desire to keep photography separate from work because I was afraid of losing the joy it brought me. To me, photography was pure—it was my escape, my way of connecting with the world and myself. The idea of turning it into a job felt risky. What if it became just another obligation? What if the pressure to monetize it stripped away the freedom and passion that made it so special? I didn’t want to subject myself to something I didn’t fully understand or risk tarnishing something that felt so pure.

But as I continued to shoot in different environments and share my work, something shifted. People started responding to my photos in ways I hadn’t expected. They connected with the stories I was telling, and opportunities began to present themselves—small gigs, collaborations, and eventually, my first paid photography job. It was then that I realized I didn’t have to sacrifice the joy of photography to make it a part of my career. Instead, I could approach it on my own terms, creating a balance that allowed me to preserve the love I had for it while also exploring its potential as a business.

For two years, I juggled my full-time job with this newfound passion. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. I’d work my shifts, attend classes online, and then spend my evenings and weekends shooting, editing, and building my portfolio. Slowly, I began to take on more photography projects, often squeezing them into my already busy schedule. It was exhausting at times, but it also felt exhilarating to be pursuing something that felt so authentically me.

Then, in 2021, I attended my first music festival, Lost Lands, and everything changed. I had never experienced anything like it—the energy, the connection between the artists and the crowd, the raw emotion of live performances. It was electrifying, and I knew I wanted to capture that feeling through my lens. Pivoting from street photography to music photography felt like a natural evolution. Both genres are about capturing fleeting, unscripted moments, but music photography added a new layer of intensity and connection that I hadn’t experienced before. I didn’t have any connections to the music industry, but I was determined to find my way in. I reached out to venues, networked with industry professionals, and slowly began to build a portfolio that reflected my passion for live music.

The thought process behind starting my own business was less about a calculated decision and more about listening to the opportunities that came my way and trusting my instincts. I didn’t set out to be a business owner, but I also didn’t want to close the door on possibilities that felt authentic and aligned with who I was becoming. So, in November 2024, I resigned from my job of seven years to pursue photography as a business. It was a gradual process of letting go of fear, embracing the unknown, and realizing that I could redefine what it meant to turn my passion into a career.

Looking back, I’m grateful I took that leap. Starting my own business, focusing on music capture has allowed me to stay true to my vision, maintain creative control, and continue finding joy in my work. It’s taught me that sometimes the best decisions aren’t the ones we plan for—they’re the ones that grow naturally out of our passions, our curiosity, and our willingness to take a chance on ourselves. And while I didn’t have any connections to the music industry when I started, I’ve since found my way into that space, capturing the energy and emotion of live performances—a world I never imagined I’d be part of, but one that now feels like it was always meant to be.

Can you open up a bit about your work and career? We’re big fans and we’d love for our community to learn more about your work.
At the heart of my art is a deep need to express—to make sense of the world, to process my emotions, and to connect with others in a way that words often can’t. Photography, for me, is more than just taking pictures; it’s about transforming intangible feelings into something real and lasting. Growing up as a transracial adoptee, the photo albums my family carefully put together are the only threads connecting me to my early years. Those images aren’t just snapshots; they’re fragments of my identity, pieces of a story that might have otherwise slipped away. That realization has stayed with me, shaping why I create. I want to give others what those albums gave me—a way to hold onto their memories, their emotions, and their stories. My goal is to craft images that don’t just document moments but make the audience feel as though they’re living them, too. It’s about creating something that endures, something that bridges the gap between the seen and the felt.

It’s easy to feel like I don’t stand out, especially in a field where so many talented people are chasing similar goals. However, habitually and constantly choosing the path of curiosity over fear has become a guiding principle in my life and my work. We’re always going to find ourselves at crossroads, faced with decisions that feel daunting or uncertain. But for me, it’s about taking those ideas that spark in my mind—no matter how fleeting or fragile—and bringing them to life. It’s about showing up, even when it feels difficult, and trusting that the act of creating itself will carry me forward.

There’s something powerful about continuing to create, even when it feels hard. I think that is what sets me apart from others. It’s not always about inspiration or motivation; sometimes, it’s about discipline and resilience. It’s about reminding myself that the process matters just as much as the outcome. Every time I pick up my camera, every time I push through self-doubt or fear, I’m choosing to honor my curiosity and my voice. And that’s what keeps me going—the belief that even in the messiness, there’s meaning, growth, and the possibility of creating something that resonates. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.

I’m proud of how I’ve persisted in pursuing my dreams, especially in the face of doubt and discouragement. There was a moment when someone told me that my dreams didn’t matter unless it was tied to their involvement—that nothing I attempted would manifest unless they had a hand in it. Instead of letting those words break me, I took them as a personal challenge. That sentiment alone lit a fire in me, and gave me internal urgency to prove to myself that I could do this on my own terms. That moment became a turning point, a reminder that my dreams were mine to chase, and no one else could dictate their worth or their possibility.

Every step forward, every photo I’ve taken, every opportunity I’ve created for myself has been a testament to my resilience and determination. I’m proud of the way I’ve turned doubt into fuel, fear into curiosity, and setbacks into stepping stones. It hasn’t been easy, but it’s been worth it. And now, looking back, I can say with certainty that my dreams matter—not because of anyone else, but because I chose to believe in them and fight for them. That’s what I’m most proud of.

I’m also incredibly excited about the evolution of my work, especially how it’s led me into the world of live music photography. There’s something magical about capturing the energy of a performance, the connection between an artist and their audience, and the raw, unfiltered emotions that come with it. It’s a space I never imagined I’d be part of, but now it feels like something I cannot live without. I’m excited to keep growing, to keep experimenting, and to see where this path takes me next. Every new project, every new collaboration, feels like an opportunity to learn, to connect, and to create something meaningful. And that’s what keeps me inspired—the endless possibilities of where this endeavor can lead.

I want people to see that it’s possible to take the fragments of your past, the doubts others cast on you, and the challenges life throws your way, and use them to create something beautiful. I want people to see that it’s possible to start with no formal training, no connections, and no clear path, and still create something that resonates. Ultimately, I want my brand to be a reminder that dreams matter—not because of anyone else’s validation, but because we choose to believe in them. My journey is proof that with curiosity, resilience, and a willingness to adapt, you can carve your own path and create something uniquely yours.

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.
We’d kick off the week by heading to the Bishop Arts District, a neighborhood that’s as much about art and community as it is about music. We’d spend the morning exploring its independent shops, like Dolly Python for vintage treasures or We Are 1976, a haven for handmade prints and quirky gifts. For lunch, we’d grab a table at Paradiso, a cozy Mediterranean spot tucked into the heart of the district. Their fresh-to-order pita and feta is my go-to every time I visit—it’s simple but unforgettable. In the afternoon, we’d stop by The Wild Detectives, a bookstore-meets-bar that often hosts live music or poetry readings. If the timing works, we’d catch a show at the Kessler Theater, a historic venue with incredible acoustics and a lineup that always surprises me. Bishop Arts is where creativity feels alive, and I’d want my friend to soak in every bit of its vibrant energy.

We’d also make time to simply be in the city, soaking in its rhythm and charm. One morning, we’d grab coffee and Japanese comfort food at Okaeri Cafe, a spot that feels like a warm hug with its cozy atmosphere and delicious matcha lattes. Then, we’d head to the Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Garden to wander without an agenda, letting the beauty of the space speak for itself. The gardens are a peaceful escape, and I’d want my friend to feel that sense of calm. In the afternoon, we’d hang out at Klyde Warren Park, not just for the food trucks but for the people-watching and the way the park feels like a living, breathing part of the city. It’s a place where Dallas comes together, and I’d want them to feel that sense of community.

No trip to Dallas would be complete without diving into its diverse neighborhoods. We’d explore Deep Ellum, where gritty, artistic energy fuels live music at iconic spots like It’ll Do or The Factory. We’d wander through Oak Lawn, a neighborhood with a rich LGBTQ+ history and an eclectic vibe, stopping by Sue Ellen’s or Round Up Saloon for a drink and a taste of local nightlife culture. And of course, we’d make a stop at Kirin Court, a Dallas institution for dim sum before the week ends. We’d go for an early afternoon dinner sampling everything—steamed buns, dumplings, rice rolls, and more. It’s a meal that feels like a celebration, and I’d want my friend to experience the joy and communal spirit of it.

By the end of the week, my friend would leave with a sense of Dallas that goes beyond the surface. It’s not just about the landmarks or the food—it’s about the moments in between. The conversations over coffee, the unexpected art finds, the way the city feels like it’s constantly evolving. It’s the Dallas I love, and I’d want them to see it through my eyes—a city that’s vibrant, diverse, and full of surprises.

The Shoutout series is all about recognizing that our success and where we are in life is at least somewhat thanks to the efforts, support, mentorship, love and encouragement of others. So is there someone that you want to dedicate your shoutout to?
I want to give a huge shoutout to the music community—the artists, venues, and industry professionals who took a chance on me when I was just starting out in live music photography. Their trust and support gave me the opportunity to grow and find my place in a space I now love deeply. To every artist who let me capture their energy on stage, every venue that opened its doors to me, and every person in the industry who offered guidance or encouragement—thank you. You’ve helped me turn my passion into a career, and I’m endlessly grateful.

A special shoutout goes to my fellow photographers and creatives, especially those I met early on when I was wandering the streets of Dallas with my camera. You reminded me that I wasn’t alone and inspired me to keep pushing boundaries. Your camaraderie and shared passion have been a constant source of motivation.

And finally, I want to acknowledge the mentors and strangers who believed in me before I fully believed in myself. Whether it was a customer at my job who encouraged me to pursue photography or a friend who pushed me to share my work, your words and actions made a bigger impact than you might realize. You helped me see the value in what I was creating and gave me the courage to take risks.

To anyone reading this: success is never a solo journey. It’s the people who lift you up, challenge you, and believe in you—even when you don’t believe in yourself—who deserve so much of the credit. I’m endlessly grateful for the community that has shaped my story and helped me get to where I am today. This shoutout is for all of you. Thank you for being part of my journey.

Website: https://www.mollypolus.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mollypolus/

Image Credits
Molly Polus