C'Mon, Would It Really Be So Bad?

Flying Solo

I've loved photography for as long as I can remember. As a little kid, running around taking "pictures" with my toy camera. As a teenager, every birthday and Christmas gift was something photography related. As an adult I was anxious to go to school and earn a degree in photography. For a couple of years my only focus was gallery shows, workshops, seminars and gaining experience. Taking photos of everything, everywhere.

My second passion is music. As I built up my portfolio, I realized that's what I wanted to do. Be a music photographer. I wanted to figure out how to utilize stage lights to get the best photos. I wanted to travel all over and meet interesting people. I wanted to capture the mood of the music and the personalities of the musicians.

After I was done with school, I joined some local photography organizations to pay my dues. I got a lot of photo passes and developed contacts and found a mentor. Adam let me work as a (free) intern around LA for a few months and taught me everything that I needed to know about music photography. He introduced me to local bands and venues and decided that after three months of experience, he would test me to see how I did on a completely solo assignment. A traveling solo assignment.

I was psyched. Until I learned that I had a huge fear of flying. I had never flown before and the possibility of fear had never even crossed my mind until I walked into the airport. I stood frozen as I took in how huge the airport was, how many people there were and how many different signs with arrows there were any way I looked. A heat wave of panic washed over me and I thought there's no way I'm going to even attempt to navigate my way to my gate. I was too embarrassed to ask anyone for help. I just kept thinking that I could turn around, walk back out the door, go home and never answer another one of Adam's phone calls again.

But I realized how stupid that would be. I had come too far to throw everything away. Ghosting Adam wasn't an option and neither was calling him to tell him I was too scared to fly. Any small amount of reputation I'd built up would go out the door and I'd be looked at as a flake. This was my first actual assignment, and Adam had done me a huge favor by even getting it for me. He chose me for it over all of his other interns. And it was an amazing opportunity. Even though I wasn't getting paid for it, it was an all expenses paid trip just to essentially go see a concert and take pictures. And Adam had implied that if I did well, he might hire me for his company.

There was no way I could pass this up. I took some deep breaths, tried to be cool and kept telling myself that everything would be fine. Plane crashes weren't nearly as common as car crashes. It was more likely for me to have gotten into a car wreck on my way to the airport verses my plane actually crashing. I think. I thought I had heard that somewhere. I tried to keep thinking about that instead of Final Destination.

By the time I got to my gate and took a seat in the terminal I was covered in a cold nervous sweat. I briefly considered getting a drink to calm my nerves but I was too scared my nerves would betray me and I would throw up everywhere. So then I became a nervous wreck about other people judging me in addition to being scared of the flight. Everything was kind of a blur once they announced that it was time to board. Somehow though, I made it to my seat, buckled myself in and immediately leaned my head back and squeezed my eyes shut.

Once everyone had gotten in and settled and it was time to take off, I grabbed the arm rests and braced myself. I was tapping my leg up and down anxiously the whole time we were ascending. Once I felt the plane leveling out, I thought that I had relaxed a little bit but apparently not by much because Ed noticed. The plane was quiet when his voice cut through.

"Hey, you alright?" A British accent.

My eyes popped open, a little startled. I looked over to my left and saw a redheaded guy with rosy cheeks looking at me with concern. At first I could have mistaken him for a kid. Then I started to think he looked kind of familiar somehow. His seat was on the other side of the aisle and he was leaning towards me across his armrest. He raised his eyebrows in question, waiting for an answer.