Fear, creativity and the edge

Creativity and confronting fears

“What’s so hard about that first sentence is that you’re stuck with it. Everything else is going to flow out of that sentence. And by the time you’ve laid down the first two sentences, your options are all gone.”

Joan Diddion

What makes the blank page daunting? Why is publishing a photograph difficult? What makes starting hard? What makes continuing hard?

Fears.

Creativity requires confronting fears often, fears of many forms from many roots.

Last Saturday, April 6th, 2024, several college friends from San Luis Obispo walked into Big Sur to begin a climbing adventure at a well-known waterfall. One of them wouldn’t walk out. 

Just off Highway One, there is a beautiful waterfall, one of the most beautiful in all of Big Sur. One hundred twenty feet of cascading freshwater on a journey to unite with the Pacific Ocean. The first waterfall photo is a segment of that waterfall.

That same day, I too went to the falls, though I was going my own way, to explore new places, maybe new falls.

Many people walk to see these falls. I’ve been many times, last Saturday my most recent. To get close to the main falls, caution is warranted. Many people get injured here with slippery smooth wet rocks. Almost once a month emergency services are called for something minor. Saturday was not such a call.

I started a bit late in the day but I soon found a new place to explore. Looking at the topography map made me smile. A small section of creek descended one thousand feet of elevation. Very promising terrain.

Why hadn’t I gone this way before? It seemed that every 200 yards a new cascade greeted me, some small, some large.

When I’m in new territory I have two goals: get familiar with the area and attempt to create photos that communicate enough of the beauty I witness.

Often I am mystified by how to approach a scene. Even in the age of digital photography with a nearly endless capacity for storing photos, I want to capture scenes well. Finding an initial perspective sometimes takes time, other times you know just where to point the camera.

On this day, the fears I encountered were familiar.

Do I wait for the light to change here or keep exploring? How far up the drainage do I go today? Are my photographs worthy of the beauty all around? Will I be able to create well without my filter kit (which I forgot!)? Will I be able to get to the trail before the light fades? Will I ever get conditions like this again? Am I talented enough? Can I meet my own expectations for my work? What will others think? Is this section safe? What’s the best route?

Familiarity with these fears makes them easier to name and manage and incorporate into my creative practice. They become friends along the way that inform the way I go and what I create. Fears become guides, affirming that I am exploring beyond the familiar, and raising questions about how far, how much, how long, that keep me safe and working the edge.

Walking down the trail back to the truck, I was enjoying each step. The day was full of new memories, new opportunities, and a photo or two that delighted me. Getting closer to Highway One I saw flashing red lights at the trailhead. As this was about 9:30pm I knew something serious was happening. Perhaps someone was lost, perhaps someone was injured.

Getting to the parking area, all the emergency vehicles were empty. Two sheriffs, two firetrucks, one ambulance.

I decided to wait a bit to find out what happened because I was curious and in the case of a missing hiker, perhaps I could help in some way.

I didn’t have to wait long. The emergency crew carried a body down to the road. Waiting a bit, I asked a Sheriff what had happened.

Apparently, a group of friends had decided to rappel down the main waterfall and one young man got stuck in the watercourse of the falls, and didn’t make it to the plunge pool alive.

I’m sure many people have rappelled down this falls and others in the area. On April 4th and 5th, rains came to the mountains, leaving snow at higher elevations. This made for a large waterfall to navigate.

I can only imagine at what fears these climbers confronted beginning their adventure. No doubt a mix of experience, happenstance, and desire contributed to a young man’s death that day. A tragedy.

While for myself climbing adventures are not my primary goal, I respect very much the desire to push oneself, to find an edge, to explore terrain, and drink deep of the beauty in wild places. I’ve thought of rappelling down waterfalls, though not this one. I’ve considered that happenstance and the natural world collide and serious accidents can happen to anyone at any time. There is always risk.

This week, I’ve been looking for articles to provide a bit more context on the accident online. Wednesday those articles began to emerge.

From the Daily Mail:

A 21-year-old student has fallen to his death from a 120 foot waterfall while hiking along Big Sur in California. 

Taylor, from Richland, Washington, who was set to graduate next year, was also a founding member of the Alpine Club at Cal Poly. 

He was known to be an experienced hiker having served as a trip leader for ASI Poly Escapes, an outdoor clothing and equipment shop.  

Taylor was described by staff at the store as 'a person of incredible technical skill and even more incredible kindness, unmatched wittiness and a passion for adventure that could inspire anyone.'

Kenneth Taylor seems like someone I would be glad to have bumped into on a trail. I pray the family and friends find healing in time.

For me, with this death and the other death from two weeks ago, also involving a waterfall in Big Sur, I am reminded that fears are valuable emotions. Learning to listen and learn from fears is a process that I will continue to honor with careful attention.