The life of Tess Madalyn Gigone — Toronto-based film photographer, cook, and creator — feels incredible to watch. But, beyond that, we know it’s a life that likely feels even more incredible to live. From providing glimpses of her family life to inviting us into her kitchen to tackle recipes both classic and intricate, Tess’s approach to sharing a life well-lived transcends medium, always rooted in intentionality and authenticity. And we love following every step of the way.
In this week’s SIDIA Stories, Tess opens up about finding presence in work and family, not being everything at once, and building a beautiful life from scratch.
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Strong women are the red thread between all of our work here, and the first topic we love to cover in our conversations. What’s the number one lesson that you’ve learned from the women in your life that you’re most excited to pass on to your daughter?
"The most important women in my life have taught me that strength lies in softness. In the ability to remain true to yourself even in a world that often demands otherwise. I hope to pass this wisdom to my daughter through the small, everyday moments we share: in the vulnerability of honest conversations, in boundaries respected, in the courage to begin again. This is what I want her to carry with her — that true power isn't about perfection or performance, but about moving through the world with an honest heart, allowing yourself to be fully seen while still protecting what matters most. I want her to know that her voice deserves space, that her instincts can be trusted, and that gentleness is not weakness but a profound form of wisdom."
" Motherhood has softened the edges of ambition without dulling it — instead, it's added depth to why I create at all."
Speaking of, we’ve loved watching your family grow and seeing you take on motherhood. What’s surprised you most about this chapter — not just in how it’s changed your day-to-day, but in how it’s reshaped your creativity, your ways of being, or how you see the world?
"What's surprised me most about motherhood is how it has slowed everything down. Not in the practical sense, as days move quickly with a child, but in how it's taught me to notice differently. I find myself lingering on moments I might have once rushed through. Creativity feels both more urgent and more patient now. There's less time, but what emerges feels more distilled, more essential. I've learned to create in the in-between spaces, finding inspiration in the ordinary rhythms of caring for another person. Motherhood has softened the edges of ambition without dulling it — instead, it's added depth to why I create at all. I see the world now through her discovering eyes, which has given everything a sense of both fragility and wonder I hadn't fully grasped before."
There’s something so grounding about working from scratch, whether it’s shooting in analog formats or cooking a meal from raw ingredients. What draws you to processes that require time, intention, and your full presence?
"I'm drawn to these slower processes because they create a different relationship with time – one where I'm no longer trying to outrun it, but instead, move in harmony with it. Shooting exclusively on film now forces me to be deliberate. To trust the moment rather than chase perfection through endless options. There's a beautiful surrender in processes you can't rush or fully control. When I develop a roll of film or spend time preparing a meal, I'm participating in something that unfolds at its own pace. The tactile anchors me in a world that often feels too fast, too digital, too distant from the actual making of things. What draws me in is that moment of complete absorption — when my hands are busy, my mind quiets, and I'm simply present with what's in front of me. There's an honesty in that I can't find anywhere else."
You move so fluidly between mediums — film in your photography work, short form video on your TikTok, more formal TV production when you’re hosting It’s Fine. What’s something you’ve learned from working across these very different formats?
"Moving between these different mediums has taught me that the essence of storytelling transcends the format itself. Each medium has its own language, its own rhythm and constraints, but the core remains the same: creating a moment of connection. Film photography teaches patience and trust in what can't be immediately seen. Short-form video demands clarity and immediacy. Television production shows the power of collaboration and structure. What I've learned from navigating these spaces is that versatility comes not from trying to be everything at once, but from bringing my whole self to each medium, allowing it to reveal something different about how I see and move through my work."
Your unique voice is so visible through all your work, no matter the platform. What’s your process for maintaining your POV whether you're behind the camera or in front of it?
"Maintaining my voice across platforms comes from a simple practice: creating from what truly resonates with me rather than what I think others want to see. When I'm behind the camera, I trust what intuitively feels right before overthinking composition. When I'm in front of it, I speak from lived experience rather than theory. I've found that the more specific and personal the starting point, the more authentic the connection. There's also freedom in knowing my perspective will evolve — consistency doesn't necessarily mean standing still. It's less about maintaining a fixed point of view and more about allowing it to deepen over time, with each project informing the next while staying rooted in what feels true to myself."
Lastly, what rituals bring you back to earth when life is in a busy season, personally and professionally?
"When life intensifies, I find my way back through simple anchors: slipping into a bath where water holds me and time slows, connecting with my husband in the quiet moments after our daughter sleeps, walking outside just to see what flowers have budded and bloomed, preparing a meal that requires nothing but my hands and attention. There's a particular joy in cooking something that will never be recorded — baking a treat or preparing a meal meant only to be eaten and enjoyed. When you've made your grounding ritual your profession, there's a special kind of relief in returning to it purely for yourself, without the camera watching."
Tess's Ritual:
