SOAP BOX COMP-Artistic Expression
Art has never been my thing, though, it has never been for a lack of trying. Dropping out of art classes to focus on the hard sciences in school was becoming a trend not an isolated incident. Music I get. No problem. But once my hand picks up a utensil and tries to express an emotion on a blank canvas, the 'wrong' side of my brain takes over and there was more likely to be a math solution on the page than a piece of art.
Also not much of an 'expressionist' growing up. Played team sports my whole life where it was drilled into me to conform into the team concept and to limit any flair as it would labelled 'hotdogging'. I love working in a team environment when every one has a common goal but it seems more common for people to have their own personal agendas.
Then I found ski touring. The perfect mix of team dynamics and personal goals. Sometimes it is difficult to find the right blend but when you find a group you work well with, it just clicks. We all know, backcountry skiing only works well when everyone on the team gets an equal voice to express their opinions and an team analytical discussion occurs to find a solution. But once you start your run, the rest of what happens is purely personal. Yes the route you're taking on the run was a group decision but the rest is up to you. This to me is the artistic expression I have been searching my whole life.
This brings me to the day I had this epiphany. Up at the top of the Whalesback near Whitewater. The team was deciding the likely routes and runs for the day. Staring across the backside bowl of Ecstasy, I just said: 'Let's just go paint some lines on that side of the bowl'. We all agreed. We skied into the bowl looking at our destination the whole time.
Beautiful day for that decision, the trail breaking was fast and furious, and we were up on the other side of the bowl in no time. Each line we picked depended on the 'expression' we wanted to leave on the mountain. Some wanted to start off with a rock drop so we could enter with some speed and lay out some longer turns, others would start with tighter turns that would increase in radius with every growth in confidence, and the dog would even decide if it was a jump line or more of a swim technique. Either way, we were all determining our own artisitc expression within the framework of a team dynamic. The breaking was so easy, we decided to put another uptrack right up to Ecstasy summit for one more bowl run.
Three runs in total in that bowl. And as we walked back to start the long trek back we looked back on the bowl and we were proud of the 'art' we had left there. And even if we were the only people left on Earth and no one else would see those lines, it didn't matter. They were for us and us only. A testament to what a group can do when they all work together for a common goal. As we were going to leave the bowl, my friend asked if we should take a picture of the bowl before we go. I said 'No, it wouldn't do it justice'. We all agreed. How could the picture capture all the elements that went into its creation: the sweat of the break, the three-dimensional cut in the snow that tells you what kind of turn you took, the conversation at the top of each run to determine the plan of attack, and other features you cannot capture in a photo?
You just can't.
So, even when I draw someone a stickman diagram, look through my high school transcripts and see my near-failing grade in art class, or see the awful pictures I drew for my mother that she put on the fridge just to be nice that I kept, I think to myself: 'I am not too bad at this 'art' stuff after all. I just had to find the right canvas'. And, there are infinite amounts of canvasses out there waiting for me.