He had a scholarship, a spot on the Olympic soccer team, and grad school on the horizon. He walked away from all of it.
The young man who seemed to have it all — a scholarship, a spot on the Olympic development soccer team, and graduate school calling — did the last thing anybody could have expected: he left it all behind.
From an early age, Chase Jarvis learned to rely on his imagination. Growing up in a middle-class household, he couldn't count on a surplus of fancy toys or video games to flex his creative muscles for him. He had to make do with his own forms of entertainment — even if it meant playing the role of artist, director, cinematographer, and marketer while still in elementary school.
When Chase turned seven, he rallied the neighborhood kids together to make a short film. They washed cars to buy Super 8 film, shot a six-minute silent thriller called Sons of Zorro, posted flyers around the block, sold candy bars, and charged admission — attracting a small crowd of parents and friends. More than selling out the basement screening, Chase had laid out a blueprint for a life defined by creativity and resourcefulness.
Chase attended college on a soccer scholarship with plans to secure a spot at a prestigious medical school. One week before graduation, his grandfather passed away suddenly, leaving behind a small collection of cameras and lenses. It wasn't much on face value — but it was enough to redirect Chase's grief toward a creative pursuit that would dramatically alter the course of his life.
He left it all behind. Chase and his then-girlfriend (now-wife) Kate headed to Europe for an extended backpacking trip. He brought his grandfather's cameras and gradually taught himself photography amid the Swiss alps and Greek beaches, with Kate as his constant subject.
"All these things together — my grandfather's cameras, the freedom of graduating college and going on an adventure — it was just this perfect alchemy that truly kicked off the biggest growth-phase as an artist that I had ever experienced."
Back in the States, Chase and Kate drove to Colorado, living off barebones earnings from waiting tables and working in a snowboard shop. Money was scarce enough that he chose every photograph carefully — and, on more than one occasion, snuck into the local community college darkroom to develop his film.
"It wasn't my proudest moment, but I share that in order to make the point that I was willing to go to great lengths to create and share my images."
His first paid photography work came when he captured a sponsored skier exploding through powder — a shot that outperformed every professional in the region. His payment was $500 and a pair of next season's skis. It hardly made him rich, but it opened an unexpected door.
"I saw for the first time that this could be a thing — it could be my thing."
By the time he returned to Seattle, Chase was all in. His artistic revelation coincided with the dawn of social media and photo-sharing platforms. He noticed a shared hunger for community, connection, and learning among creatives — and in 2005, he began asking himself a question.
"What if I could step out of the way and leverage technology to connect my community — from up and comers to the top creators and entrepreneurs in the world — with this super-hungry, passionate, online audience of creatives?"
Five years later, in 2010, CreativeLive was born. The launch was far from smooth — a whiteboard in the office listed all the things that were "sure to break," from camera failures to live feed outages. But the fear was no match for the anticipation of what was possible.
Today, CreativeLive boasts over 1,500 curated classes, 650+ world-class instructors, and more than 10 million students worldwide.
"Whether turning his back on a life that was expected of him or embracing failure as life's greatest teacher, Chase lives with a resilient optimism that's not only inspirational, but downright contagious."