“VICES” is my take on the classic storytelling exercise of the still image film. No dialog, no audio, no transitions—just a slideshow of photos arranged and paced to develop a compelling narrative. In this case, I was challenged to create a narrative in just 15 frames.

This is a story of addiction, a common narrative center for many of my works. Throughout this narrative, I frame addiction as an allegory for my life as an artist. As should be readily apparent, I love making art more than anything else. It’s my life’s calling, and I believe I would be a truly empty and uninspired human being without this powerful spark of passion inside me. Yet I feel this passion has been hijacked in recent years. With each finished project, I find myself more and more influenced by social media numbers and tangible rewards rather than by an intrinsic sense of self-fulfillment. Each post feels like a gamble, having a near-impossible chance of being my big break regardless of how profound or innovative my work is. Focusing on these external validations turns the vibrant joy of making art into muted grays. You begin to lose sight of what matters, desperately pushing for the next hit of dopamine and giving up everything for a tantalizing reward that’s always just out of reach. The modern media landscape is engineered to make artists believe they’re gambling with their lives by pursuing their dreams. This is the bleak and monotonous world of “VICES.”

Many deliberate choices were made in the photography of this narrative. Shots are tight, and each image is cropped into a square frame to induce claustrophobia and make the narrative feel inescapable. The photos are blurred and set to grayscale. Everything from the composition to the pacing is slow and mundane. The only highlight of color in the entire piece is the gold foil of the lottery ticket—a brief glimmer of hope with an oppressive subtext always reminding you that you’ll never win.

“VICES” is deeply unpleasant in a way that my work usually steers clear of. I’m unafraid of diving head-first into violence, hatred, blasphemy, and depravity. But this particular piece covers none of the above. Instead, the true despair of this narrative is much quieter and more insidious. It’s the cycle of depression that slowly turns you into a mindless zombie over the course of days, weeks, months, years. It’s the fear of what my life could be if I gave up the fight, and it’s a thought that’s deeply painful to think about. Still, I think this piece is an important microcosm of mental health in the modern day, and it’s a compelling experiment in photographic storytelling.

- Colby Wygal