Yes, ten years ago, I was in a severe accident, flatlined, and when I came to, I was in a hospital bed with a broken up body. And the doc told me ‘I’d maybe never walk again’. I kind of laughed at him and replied, ‘Yes, I will’. On three separate occasions, doctors have told me that I may never walk again. Even on my high alpine Hansen episode I only had 3 years of rehabilitation, and I was back at skydiving, snowboarding, and mountaineering. After my most recent accident, my hip was broken, and my knee was snapped out of place with a huge gash. I had several broken bones in my right leg including pulled and torn ligaments, tendons, and cartilage. But I soon learned after a few laps on the hospital floor and a stop in the washroom using a walker, my injuries were severe. 10 years later, I have some discomfort or what most would call pain depending on how hard I’ve been pushing myself during my workout, and I may use walking poles once in a while, but all in all, I’m good. I have never mentioned my history and my time being in a wheelchair a decade ago. The reason for not discussing my time spent in a wheelchair is that I didn’t and still don’t want people to feel sorry for me. Ten year seems like several life times ago. And it’s hard even for me to fathom today I might have been confined to a wheelchair for life as my doc said I might be. I love my cardio workouts. I can swim 10km to 15 km with a rest or two, and I can MTB XC 20 km. On a gym bike, I can cycle two hours+, but I will never be able to run 10 km flat-out again, so last year I officially retired from high alpine mountaineering. My doctor recently took me off steroids, so I have a few kilograms to lose, but I have the drive and energy, and with no medication hampering my efforts, I’m even more dedicated than ever before to improving my health. Truthfully, from day one of my recovery, instead of sitting on the couch and indulging in buttered popcorn, I was in the swimming pool or making time at the gym to rebuild my health. As the days and months passed, I started doing more and becoming healthier. Corona has made everything more challenging such as working out at the gym and going to the pool, so I’ve had to rely on home training and swimming in the ocean for every season except winter, plus hiking and camping throughout Japan.
After much reflection, I realized it was time that I shared a part of my history that I had decided years ago to keep quiet. I already posted to the mountain biking special interest group on Facebook, but it was time to let a wider audience know. Honestly, I had not joined social media until I was put in the wheelchair because I suddenly had time on my hands to explore it, but before that, I was a senior executive working 70 hours a week at one of Japan’s top photography agencies. Social media was simply not a luxury I could afford at the time. When I could get time off, I was gone into the backcountry chasing another adventure or spending time with my family, but I did land some sweet photography assignments. However, if there was an award assembly tied to the assignment, I would skip it, especially if I was receiving something as part of the ceremony. I don’t tend to list up my accolades for other people to look at. Annually, I get 15-20 photographers that wish to work with me, but before I agree to collaborate with anyone, I go to their website. If I see one award or major accolade, that’s okay, but if the entire page is consumed with awards, then I’m not interested in working with them. My own disinclination to list up my own accolades has bled into my interpretation of others, but if I listed my own, we’d be here for a while. I’d need a double sized business card for just the highlights. I don’t have the time, and I don’t feel this sort of recognition is important, which returns to the reason why I didn’t share my achievements with others or my troubles.
My no nonsense approach to life also comes out in my approach to leading Japan photo workshops. In my first year of rehabilitation, I started working on an itinerary with Jim Zuckerman to co-lead a workshop to be conducted two years later. I thought I would be off crutches, but I was wrong. Three years after my last stay in the hospital, I co-lead that photo workshop. Walking away was simply not an option for me. It never has been. And today, as I mentioned earlier, I’m fine, can walk and lead workshops. My motto is ‘never give up’, and don’t let anyone tell you differently. There’s all kinds of people on the planet, and those like myself, we don’t sit around and dwell on the negative or read obituaries. We’re looking for the next adventure, exploring, living life to the fullest. Leading photography workshops sounds easy, but let’s be honest, we start before sunrise and go until sunset. Days can be long. It’s not an easy job, and even for the hardened explorer, travel can be stressful and safety is paramount for everyone involved in a Blain Harasymiw Photography workshop. Even if I’m running a private photo workshop, I never conduct it alone, in case I get tired or don’t feel well. I always have a back up pro driver. And when running group photography workshops, I always have at least one support group team member on standby at all times traveling with us, just in case. While 99% of photography workshops on the market now run on a skeleton crew, in my opinion, that’s foolish and even worse dangerous especially since we still have not reached the epidemic stage of pandemic. To date, myself, my family, and my team have not contracted c/19, and on a workshop, as a leader, it’s my responsibility that everyone remains safe.
Recently, my support group team and I completed my annual Essence of Autumn Leaves Photo workshop tour, and I’m now getting ready for my Hokkaido wildlife photo workshop. It’s these times in between photo workshops where I tend to take stock of my life and its experiences. For example, I recently returned to an old hobby of mine, cross country mountain biking, and I joined a Facebook group focused on it to check the pulse of the global community and see what developments there have been in gear, bikes, etc. I posted that I hadn’t ridden for over 10 years because I was in a wheelchair, and more than 100 people responded nearly immediately, writing messages such as ‘go get ‘em’ or ‘go for it, happy you’re back’. I was moved by all their heartfelt encouragement, and I’ve been hitting the medium-hard cross country trails on my Trek X-Caliber bike since I picked it up, doing about 15 kilometers plus per ride.
Also as a leader, it’s my job to make sure every client experiences their Japan photography workshop of a lifetime and returns home safe, sound, and happy, and I guarantee all the participants who have joined me since Japan opened now know how to properly use PPEs. More importantly, everyone enjoyed their photography workshop of a lifetime and returned home with memory cards full of gallery worthy hanging prints and friendships for life, some new and some old. Creating the photography experience of a lifetime means taking the annual pilgrimages oneself, as I have done for over two decades, traveling the same ancient pilgrimage routes that samurais, geishas, Zen buddhist monks, and artisans such as Hokusai Katsushika who is best known for his 36 views of Mt. Fuji woodblock prints, also traveled, and believe me, these ancient pilgrim routes will not appear on one Google search. You can either accept an incomplete route, become a run of the mill photo workshop member, or join me for an authentic Japanese photography workshop of a lifetime. Plus, don’t forget, you’re getting the years of experience that I committed to learn the ancient ways just as Samurai Williams did before me. These legends have inspired me as I undertook my artisan’s pilgrimages and have shown me the art and diligence of Japanese dogma and to always experience authentic Japan, where dreams become a reality. While on a pilgrimage, a photography exploration, or when I’m camping, milky white hot springs and I just seem to find each other. If I’m with clients, they are more than welcome, if they wish to rejuvenate in the healing onsen after a long day of photography. Plus, I always have my agent book us into lodgings with natural hot springs. When I’m alone in the back country, instead of clients or friends, I sometimes find myself bathing alongside the snow monkeys.
My continued pilgrimages along Japan’s islands have led me to formulate the proprietary routes that I use for my annual Cherry blossom photo workshop, my annual Hokkaido wildlife photo tour (which is usually sold 1-2 years in advance), my Essence of Autumn photo workshop, and my Mt. Fuji Snow Monkey cross country photo workshop experience. Safety, especially now with corona, spells extra protocols especially when it comes to N95 mask wearing, as well I have reduced the numbers of participants on workshops by half, to allow for more than ample spacing between participants in the SUVs for everyone’s safety. Safety is non-negotiable. Lastly, but first on my priorities is risk management for the safety of participants. Some of my friends, colleagues, and family ask me if I have any regrets about my choices, but, truthfully, I wouldn’t have lived my life any other way. In spite of all the trials, tribulations, and challenges I’ve faced, I have discovered the pinnacle of what fellow explorers are envisioning to experience in authentic Japan. The enjoyment I share with my participants is a product of experience, like all the Japan photo workshops that I conduct. That is why today I run a cross-country Japanese cherry blossom workshop rather than a run of the mill photo workshops. Their ‘workshops’ are so limited, I would even hesitate to call what they do a photo workshop. It’s more of a cash grab, capitalizing on people’s dreams of what they hope to see when visiting Japan. If you join a run of the mill photography agency and manage to photograph the perfect cherry blossom then you should immediately go and buy a lottery ticket because you’ll never have a luckier day. With me, I’ll make your cherry blossom dreams come true.
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