Inspiration comes unexpectedly — like that sunny afternoon at a small airfield.
Inspiration comes spontaneously and unexpectedly. Like that sunny afternoon when I arrived at a small airfield to shoot with another model. I glanced up at the sky and saw parachutists descending to the ground. Freedom, solitude, a few seconds of free fall. An unimaginable magic lasting only a few minutes. That’s exactly what I want to capture in a future shoot. For that, I just need a beautiful model and a parachute. So far, I don’t have either.
I don’t know anyone who skydives or who frequents the airfield. I anticipated that the shoot would require extensive preparation.
The next day, I tried a few calls and relied on the idea that people know people, and those people know others. It worked, and within two hours, I had a parachute promised for the shoot. WOW, we could get started. Getting the parachute was easier than I expected; now I just had to plan who to shoot and when. I was racing against time—autumn was ending, and the nice days were fading. Everything had to be photographed on Saturday between 11 a.m. and 2 p.m. I picked up the phone and sent a message: “Hi Jani, what are you doing on Saturday? I have an irresistible offer for you.”
Jana didn’t let me down and drove over two hours to get to me. She arrived at the agreed spot right on the minute.
The last beautiful day with warm weather had apparently drawn almost every parachutist from the surrounding area to the airfield. We had to accept that we wouldn’t have the usual calm for the shoot—that we would draw attention and create a bit of a stir. I could probably be dismissed as an uninteresting guy who just came for a walk, but not Jana. She’s an incredible stunner, tall with hair down to her waist—one look from her and it takes your breath away. Soon, we were already enjoying the attention of a small audience.
A loud voice called out: “Follow me!” Some guy was waving at me and pointing.
The man is a former soldier—I almost stood at attention and without hesitation followed every instruction and order. He exudes authority even without words, and there’s a hint of intimidation about him. He leads me into an old building; they have a base there and hand me all the gear I need. Then comes an unexpected question: “Can you see clearly?”
Puzzled, I ask, “Excuse me?” and feel almost like I’ve done something wrong, even though I haven’t started yet. He’s just checking if my vision is good because I’m slightly night-blind. “Number three?” he asks, pointing to one of the old lockers. I breathe a sigh of relief. “Yes, number three,” I reply. “Good, take this one—it’s sporty, here’s the jumpsuit.”
Next come the final instructions on what to watch out for. I’m warned several times that the wind is strong today, and if it catches the parachute—even on the airfield—it could carry Jana down the hill. “Got it,” I say, “I’ll be careful and put a heavy bag in the chute just in case.” We gather the gear and get ready for the shoot, and the man calls out:
“Be careful not to snap any lines—tomorrow girls will be jumping with it.”
Wait, what?! It’s clear now: girls and parachutes go together.
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