We’re looking forward to introducing you to April Onstad . Check out our conversation below.
Hi April , thank you so much for taking time out of your busy day to share your story, experiences and insights with our readers. Let’s jump right in with an interesting one: What are you most proud of building — that nobody sees?
I love this question so much because it has been so engraved on my heart lately that real authentic growth is silent.
I have many chronic illness labels attached to my medical charts and my goal this year has been to rewrite them all.
I am waking up early to enjoy sunsets and grounding my bare feet on the frosty ground. I am going to the gym every day and giving it my all. Working on learning how to cook everything from scratch, with anti inflammatory foods. It’s been remarkable to see a strength I haven’t seen inside of myself since I was a teenager. Slowly, I am beginning to recognize myself in the mirror again after what so many brain surgeries tried to steal from me. It’s a really beautiful feeling and I treasure that it is all just a gift to my spirit and body.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My background is in music and photography. I always had a camera in my hand and took every class I could get my hands on. My path really took shape as a teenager in London when I met my photography teacher. He saw in me that I had a way of capturing people in special moments. “Unscripted “ he called it. His words made me dream big. I was photographing weddings on film by my early twenties and was well on my way to creating a nice little business for myself.
Then everything changed when I learned I had a brain tumor. When I was thirty years old. That moment rearranged something in me. Coming through it pushed me to stop postponing the dreams that had been sitting quietly in my heart. It reminded me that creativity, connection, and service aren’t just passions, they’re my purpose.
Today, I am working for New Folk Records and have the honor of capturing and promoting musicians.
The connections I have made through that have been such a huge gift to me. It’s a path that allows me to do something that I love while having the time to also take care of my continued healing.
In my free time I volunteer at local ministries. Which is another huge passion of mine. It’s a great way to help your community.
Everything I do, whether it’s music, writing, photography, or community work, it is rooted in shining a little more light, creating space for authenticity, and reminding people that their stories matter and their gifts are worth being seen.
Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. Who were you before the world told you who you had to be?
This ties in so well with the healing journey that I am on. The first question I asked myself was, when did I last feel most authentically myself?
My mind immediately brought me back to my early twenties, working at a Sam Goody music store in London, going to college for photojournalism and roaming the streets capturing moments I felt like no one else stopped to take time to witness. I traveled and had no problem finding my way around different countries and meeting amazing people along the way. I felt so alive because for me that was always new faces and places.
My illness and all of the labels doctors wrote on me became my identity for far too long. The world told me I wouldn’t be able to do these things ever again, I wouldn’t walk. I needed to be in hospice. You name it, I heard it spoken over me.
It took a lot of work to be where I am today. Returning to all of those things that I loved about life. With the fuel of my amazing boys, my supportive husband and parents, I am getting back to that favorite version of myself.
My message to anyone reading, you can do it too. It’s hard, it requires boundaries, sacrifice and commitment, but it is an achievable finish line.
What did suffering teach you that success never could?
Suffering is a producer of so many gifts. It’s a battlefield of the mind because finding your joy in the midst of turmoil is incredibly difficult. The first thing it taught me is the importance of having faith. Faith is hope for things that are unseen. While my body may be weak, hope can be strong. That will kept me putting one foot in front of the other.
I learned not to listen to the voices who told me what I could or couldn’t do. What I should or shouldn’t be. And began to lean into my own direction. It was that moment that the door for what I am doing today, professionally, opened for me.
Suffering gave me eyes to see the world and life for the gift that it is. Not what the news says, not what people around me say. The sunsets, the full moon nights, drives through the mountains,
take on a technicolor hue that I never saw before.
Suffering has made me want to give up countless times, but the flame of hope and all the gifts that it brings to me daily, is my greatest gift.
Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
A belief and project I am committed to, no matter how long it takes, is the work of restoring dignity, voice, and belovedness to people whose stories have been overlooked, misunderstood, or wounded, especially artists and seekers who live at the margins of both faith and industry.
I believe love is revealed through attention, through the act of truly seeing. Surviving a brain tumor and meningitis clarified this for me: life is fragile, and what lasts is not output or acclaim, but whether we helped someone feel less alone in their own skin. That belief shapes everything I do.
My photography is an act of witness. I am committed to seeing people as they are, not as commodities or concepts. Through the lens, I create space where artists can be honest, unguarded, and dignified, where they are not performing an identity, but inhabiting their own truth. It is slow, relational work, and I refuse to rush it.
That same commitment lives in my work with New Folk Records. I am devoted to protecting and amplifying voices that don’t fit neatly into commercial boxes, roots, Americana, blues artists whose music carries memory, grit, and soul. My role is not to extract or polish away their humanity, but to steward their stories with care, integrity, and respect.
Across faith, photography, and music, my long-term project is the same: to create safe, honest spaces where truth can breathe and people can be seen without being used. I don’t know how long it will take, and I don’t need to. I believe this kind of work matters precisely because it can’t be hurried and because love, when it’s real, always leaves evidence.
Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. If you retired tomorrow, what would your customers miss most?
If I retired tomorrow, I believe my customers would miss the experience of being truly seen and safely held not just photographed.
I asked my clients recently to share their favorite images I’ve captured and why. Their responses took my breath away words that will stay with me for the rest of my life.
One client, Kari, shared a photograph from her maternity session. I had photographed her engagement and wedding, and then she disappeared from my life for a time. What I didn’t know was the grief she was carrying. She had lost eleven babies. When she called me, she was expecting twins and wanted to document that fragile, holy moment. The session became a quiet mixture of light, love, heartache, and joy. That image represents far more than a pregnancy it holds survival, hope, and tenderness that words cannot carry.
Another client, Val, shared a photograph from her 50th wedding anniversary session. Her husband was terminally ill, and this would be their last time being photographed together. At one point, they simply held hands. He kissed her on the forehead, unaware of the camera. The image feels almost as though I wasn’t even there. Val later wrote that when she looks at that photograph, she can still feel that kiss.
Then there are the countless stories of children who came into my space laughing, playing, and feeling free to be exactly who they were no expectations, no pressure, just joy.
What my clients would miss most is the bubble I create a space where people can cry, laugh, grieve, celebrate, and heal without judgment. A place where titles, labels, and performances fall away, and what remains is simply humanity.
That, to me, is the true work. The photographs are the legacy, but the experience of being safe, seen, and loved in the process—that is the gift.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://Www.newfolk-records.com
- Instagram: @aprilonstad
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lightinthevalleyphotographymn.
Image Credits
Main photo by Wild Rose Photography, all others by April Onstad
