The moment before I jump is filled with anxiety and what-ifs. But then as soon as I enter the air, I'm filled with this calmness and that's the main attraction to it. That's why I do these death-consequence pursuits or arts.

I was taking my advance freefall course, doing my level 1 jump. My heart was racing. Like I said, I have a lot of fear with falling, so I panicked. Then I let go of the door of the airplane and kind of panicked the entire way. But after a few jumps I grew more calm, realized what was going on, and I think that was the key. The more calm I got, the more relaxed I was.

Calmly spinning, I scan as far away as I can see. The last rays of the day's sun warm my back and my stare locks onto my own shadow. I follow the lines of my body on the stone in front of me, spreading my arms as wings, and bathe in the beauty of existence.

Entranced by the flight of a raven, I watch its shadow move effortlessly against golden, shimmering granite. I long to be that free, flying above the cluttered world of normalcy, where so many are half alive.

The most beautiful experiences I've had climbing are when everything is simplified. Free soloing is the simplest thing, until you learn to fly or to walk on air - which I feel is all possible.

I think everybody has a dream of flying at least once in their life. For me, it's been over and over a recurring dream. It's mostly that. That desire to be as free as the birds, to be unhindered. I started off as - and am still - a free solo climber. So being in the air is a huge fear of mine. So there's a combination of going toward my fear as well as being fascinated with the air.

I don't have a lot of pressure on myself to be successful. I'm more of an artist. I just try to make myself more a part of the most beautiful painting as possible. And enjoy it.