Sherry Keene’s path to fine art photography didn’t begin in a studio. It began in a hangar, machining and welding F-15s as one of the few women working the flight line in the U.S. Air Force. She learned to shape steel under pressure, to solve with her hands, to stay calm in noise and heat. But creative fire doesn’t go silent forever. After the military, Sherry earned her BFA and MFA in design and spent decades helping others tell their stories—working as a professional graphic designer, educator, and visual communicator. But the deeper her expertise grew, the more one question echoed: What about my story? The turning point came not from inspiration, but insistence. Life demanded a reckoning. Art was no longer a luxury—it was the only way back to herself. Determined not to coast on talent or past credentials, she sought out top-tier mentorships and let herself be tested. She sought out top-tier mentorships and allowed herself to be tested. Serge Ramelli was blunt and unflinching in his feedback. Craig Alexander challenged her to dig deeper and question whether she truly belonged in the arena. Scott Kelby offered quiet encouragement and professional praise. Sherry stayed through all of it—listened, worked, and refused to step back. That part of the journey reshaped her—not just as an artist, but as a human being. Her photographs now reflect that path: still, moody, deeply grounded. She travels across Europe creating cinematic fine art images that speak to atmosphere, time, and emotional gravity. Her camera is not just a tool—it’s a witness. Her compositions are not about the obvious—they’re about what lingers just beyond it. Her work has been published internationally, praised by her mentors, and recognized for its technical clarity and poetic restraint. This isn’t about chasing perfection or arrival. It’s about doing the work—to translate something felt but hard to name. For Sherry, each image is a return to the part of herself that refused to quit. For the viewer, it becomes a mirror, a memory, a moment they didn’t know they’d been holding onto all along.