For one thing, it hasn’t happened yet.

For another, it doesn’t involve travel.

But it is the story of a fearful adventure.

One of the many ideas that takes up space in my head is a photo series. The working title is “Dear Atlas, I’m sorry I loved William Wegman”. My vision involves a series of photos of people and weimaraners in which the people are beautifully and creatively costumed and the weimaraners are beautifully and simply themselves.

If you’ve been around for a while, you probably know that the idea was inspired by my love for William Wegman’s photos as well as by my dear Atlas and his extreme distaste for anything resembling a costume, like hats or antlers or twinkly lights.

My vision is clear. I know just the right photographer to bring the idea to life. My sense is that the idea itself is fun and creative and clever and has a great deal of potential.

And yet I have not done anything with the idea at all.

I tell myself that I’m not doing anything with it because the time isn’t right, because I have more important things to work on, because I’m not inspired.

In truth, it has nothing to do with any of that.

The real reason I am not working on the idea is fear: I am afraid to be the person I would have to become in order to execute it.

I like ideas that involve just me. This idea does not. I would want to find other people with weimaraners to participate. I would need to crowd-source the money. I would want to ask William Wegman for ideas.

I like ideas that are small and manageable. This idea is not. It involves other people and clever stubborn energetic weimaraners. I don’t know what the end result of my vision should be (a book? prints?) which is something I would need to know in order to decide on funding reward options.

I like being the one behind the camera, not the one in front of it, and I am not particularly fond of costumes.

In order to execute my idea, I would need to grow, to become bigger and better. I would need to become more visible. These are not bad things. But just because something is good for you doesn’t mean it’s not scary.

I am sharing this story of my as-yet-not-taken fearful adventure in order to hold myself accountable.

The idea is in honor of my beloved weimaraner Atlas. He is not getting any younger. I want to take action on it now, even if my actions are small and even if the idea grows and changes along the way.

I also know what can be gained by acting on things that both inspire and scare me. I left a great job to be an artist even though I was absolutely terrified; I still feel a little bit of fear every single day but my world is so much richer because of it. I hiked the Inca trail to Machu Picchu instead of taking the train even though I was absolutely terrified I was going to die of altitude sickness; when I reached Dead Woman’s Pass on the second day, I felt exhilarated, and I knew that I would doubt myself and my capabilities a little less in the future because of it.

Even though I am still afraid, I am ready for this idea to change my world too.

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This post is part of the My Fearful Adventure series, which is celebrating the launch of Torre DeRoche’s debut book Love with a Chance of Drowning, a true adventure story about one girl’s leap into the deep end of her fears.

“Wow, what a book. Exciting. Dramatic. Honest. Torre DeRoche is an author to follow.” Australian Associated Press

“… a story about conquering the fears that keep you from living your dreams.” Nomadicmatt.com

“In her debut, DeRoche has penned such a beautiful, thrilling story you’ll have to remind yourself it’s not fiction.” Courier Mail

Find out more…

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