Return of the Genius Photographer

Time is inevitably captured in photographs.

If someone asked why I take photos, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second to answer:

Because time passes too quickly.

The past always seems distant when we look back, doesn’t it?

If the moment I’m standing in now is the ‘present,’ it becomes the ‘past’ as soon as I step away.

We all know that no matter how hard we try to turn back the clock, yesterday won’t return.

We can reflect on the past, but we can’t go back.

When the past feels unbearably nostalgic, we turn to photographs.

What they contain often shares a common trait: affection.

Because they capture life.

That’s why I dedicated myself to the study of photography.

Eating less, sleeping less…

Traveling everywhere to take pictures.

-Click!

The shutter sounds.

“Ha…”

Even though I was bundled up head to toe in thick clothing, the biting wind cruelly found its way through the gaps.

I took my eyes off the camera’s viewfinder and scanned the breathtaking view.

The Himalayas.

A mountain range at about 8,000 meters above sea level, perpetually engulfed in freezing cold, as if rejecting human presence.

Among them, Everest.

I had been struggling for fifteen days to climb the world’s highest peak, Everest.

It was a spontaneous decision.

“You’re going blind.”

The doctor delivered the sentence as casually as if commenting on the weather.

I’m a photographer.

The prospect of losing my sight was no different from a death sentence.

“It appears to be blindness due to complications from diabetes. Even if we might delay the symptoms, avoiding it seems difficult…”

That day, I must have acted like a man possessed.

“Blindness…?”

At first, I grabbed the doctor by the collar, hurling insults and causing a scene.

“You, quack!”

I was eventually dragged out of the hospital…

“Damn it!”

I kicked the hospital door in frustration and sank to the ground.

Despair overwhelmed me.

The tsunami of hopelessness made rational thought impossible.

“I must die…”

I immediately decided on death.

Photography was my everything…

It was as if everything had been taken from me.

“Okay…”

But before that…

“A posthumous work…”

I resolved to leave behind a final masterpiece.

I returned home, opened my laptop…

“Wait, what happened…”

And booked a ticket to Nepal.

To leave a legacy on the snowy mountains of the Himalayas.

“Woojin, the sun is setting!”

The guide ahead of me shouted, snapping me out of my reverie.

“Damn it, if we don’t reach the lodge before dark, it’ll be dangerous!”

I quickly put the camera back in my bag and hurriedly followed his footsteps.

“Let me ask you directly.”

He asked again.

“Are you here to kill yourself?”

It was an absurd question.

“I’m here to take photos.”

He looked into my eyes with suspicion.

“You look like someone who came to die.”

“What nonsense…”

“I can tell just by looking into someone’s eyes, like now.”

The guide, carrying not just his load but also mine, pressed on ahead and continued to speak.

“Everyone seems to have some kind of fantasy about these mountains.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know how many people come here every year to commit suicide?”

When I shook my head, the Sherpa replied.

“Thousands.”

“That’s a lot.”

“And the reasons they come to die are varied.”

He listed a few examples.

“People who have lost all their money to gambling, or those who haven’t overcome the pain of heartbreak….”

There were no cases like mine.

“Do you know what they all have in common?”

“I don’t.”

“They’ve all lost something.”

That resonated with me.

I had lost everything, too.

I came here because I had lost it all.

“I see.”

I answered awkwardly, and he smirked.

“Anyway, if you’re here to kill yourself, I don’t want to continue this journey with you. Put yourself in my shoes for a moment.”

“Pardon?”

“If someone came to your office and said they were going to hang themselves, how would you react?”

That would really be messed up.

“I’d tell them to get lost.”

“Exactly! I’m the same.”

He huffed.

“I’m a guide, not a ferryman to the afterlife.”

“I understand.”

“If you understand, then clearly explain why you’ve come to these snowy mountains.”

I hesitated for a moment.

“I’m here to leave behind a final masterpiece.”

“So you do intend to die!”

“Please, don’t misunderstand.”

I quickly added.

“I’m a photographer on the verge of going blind.”

The guide couldn’t hide his surprise and began to ponder his response.

“Isn’t it poetic?”

I tried to lighten the mood with some humor.

“What’s poetic about that?”

“Like Beethoven.”

“Beethoven, my ass.”

Forcing a smile, I continued my explanation.

“I’m here to leave behind a legacy, but I have no intention of freezing to death in these mountains.”

“Then what?”

“If I create a masterpiece worth admiring, I want to share it with the world.”

The guide responded gruffly.

“Good to hear.”

I sensed a change in the way he looked at me. I started to feel his sympathy and pity.

“I think I can help.”

“Pardon?”

“I know a place with an incredible view.”

He added.

“The path is tough, but among the entire mountain range that seems to reach the sky, I can assure you it has the most breathtaking scenery.”

After a pause, he said.

“Let’s go there.”

I had come to these snowy mountains thinking it was the end of everything, but now…

“I’m looking forward to it.”

A smile crept across my face at the thought that I might capture an extraordinary photo.

*****

We barely made it to the lodge as the sun was setting.

“Warm yourself up first.”

The lodge owner offered us ginger tea.

Was it supposed to be good for altitude sickness?

Sipping the tea, I asked, “How many days until we reach the spot you mentioned?”

The guide thought for a moment before answering.

“Probably three or four days.”

In our field, we often referred to great photo locations as ‘spots.’

“Three or four days…”

The thought of reaching a spot where I could capture my final masterpiece lifted my spirits considerably.

“Are you a famous person?”

The guide’s sudden question caught me off guard.

After a moment’s hesitation, I nodded shyly.

“Probably.”

The life of photographer Nam Woojin was fairly synonymous with success.

“Can you tell me your story?”

The guide’s polite request made me nod and sit down by the fire, ready to share my journey.

“It was a little after I turned twenty-five.”

I had left my home country and set foot in the distant land of America.

I wanted to immerse myself in photography there, where many of my favorite magazines and photographers were based.

At the time…

I remember having only a few million won to my name.

But I had a fairly expensive DSLR camera and a Polaroid camera.

“I wandered around various tourist spots, taking pictures and selling them for small change.”

“That’s crazy.”

“I survived day by day, building my portfolio diligently.”

Sipping my ginger tea, I continued.

“It wasn’t long before my life changed.”

Sensing the beginning of a dramatic story, the guide adjusted his posture and looked at me intently.

“I met my mentor.”

It was while I was taking pictures near the Grand Canyon.

A white man approached me as I was preparing to shoot.

“Which magazine are you with?”

I would never forget that day.

David McCurry.

He was a highly respected documentary photographer in the industry, with an exclusive contract with National Geographic.

“Not yet…”

He responded to my words.

“My God, do people have no eye for talent?”

“Pardon?”

“But it’s good for me, since we’ve met this way.”

He handed me his business card and said,

“Let’s work together.”

I began to learn photography professionally under his tutelage.

We explored remote areas and took photos, wandered through war-torn countries, and crossed the line of death multiple times.

I threw myself into photography with such intensity, dedicating my youth to it.

Quite a bit of time passed that way.

I became a competent and hardworking photographer…

“Woojin! Listen carefully and don’t be surprised!”

“What’s with the fuss, out of character for you?”

My mentor had become my colleague…

“National Geographic contacted me via email.”

“What?”

“They want to sign an exclusive contract with you!”

All our hard work was finally starting to pay off.

“Wow, you’re really something!”

The guide exclaimed excitedly.

“This is where the genre changes.”

“What?”

“It turns into a tragedy from here.”

Just when it seemed like my life was finally coming together…

“Actually, it was around that time that my eyes started to go bad.”

“Damn it.”

“Fast forward, and here we are, chatting like this.”

He murmured while poking at the logs in the fire.

“Don’t worry.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll help you.”

He got up and, in a quiet voice, added,

“Your final masterpiece.”

“Ah…”

“It’ll be a great one.”

He said confidently and continued after a brief pause,

“It might end up being the finest work of your entire life.”

He was a simple and good person.

“Thank you.”

I expressed my gratitude briefly and sipped my ginger tea.

The sight of the logs burning black in the fire caught my eye.

My eyes, too, were losing their spark and burning black.

‘Damn…’

The world looked a little blurrier than it did yesterday.

I spent the night praying that my sight would hold out for just a few more days.

*****

As we continued our trek, we grew closer, and our conversations became more profound.

“Woojin, people often say they’re living their lives, but that’s just an illusion.”

I tilted my head at the guide’s words.

“If we’re not living, then what are we doing?”

“We’re dying.”

He glanced at a withered tree as he added,

“Like all living things, we’re racing headlong towards death.”

I thought it was a profound statement.

“My father told me that.”

As he planted his stick firmly in the ground, he continued in a detached tone.

“The day after he told me that, he successfully reached his death.”

I had nothing to say to that.

“My condolences…”

Then he said,

“We’re almost at the place where you’ll meet your end as a photographer.”

His words snapped me to attention.

“Is it nearby?”

He nodded.

“The ground here is dangerous, so you can’t stay long. Just take a few shots and then come back immediately.”

He insisted I understood.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes…”

“Let’s go.”

How much time had passed?

“My God…”

I was stunned by the breathtaking view that unfolded before my eyes.

I nearly collapsed from the sheer beauty of it.

“There it is.”

He pointed to the sheer cliff.

“Just take a few shots and come back.”

I quickly responded, “Yes,” and busied myself with my equipment, preparing to shoot.

“Damn…”

I had a good feeling.

It was going to be a masterpiece.

A really good feeling.

“Woojin.”

The guide called out to me suddenly.

“Yes, what is it?”

He hesitated before speaking.

“I think we’ve become friends through this journey.”

“I agree.”

“So, as a friend, I have a favor to ask.”

I was willing to do anything.

“Could you take a picture of me?”

Of course…

“Yes, I’ll take it right now.”

Before heading to the cliff, I quickly captured his image and showed him the photos.

“Is this satisfactory?”

He looked at the photos and kept expressing his admiration.

“Excellent…”

Then he made another request.

“Please print this photo for me.”

His request made me pause.

To print the photo, I would have to go down the mountain. To be precise, I would have to go down the mountain ‘alive.’

He still seemed worried that I might jump off the cliff.

I responded with a steady voice.

“I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll definitely get it printed for you.”

With that, I completed my preparations and cautiously moved toward the edge of the sheer cliff.

I set up the tripod and mounted the camera.

Adjusting the aperture to control the amount of light, I fine-tuned the focus and took a deep breath.

Like a sniper aiming at a target.

Looking through the viewfinder at the breathtaking scenery, I slowly placed my finger on the shutter button.

-Click!

-Click!

-Click!

The sound of the shutter repeated.

Simultaneously, a sense of exhilaration surged, an indescribable euphoria.

It was as if the whole world receded behind me into the distance, leaving only this peculiar feeling.

Something was boiling within me.

It felt as if I had swallowed burning coals, my insides hot and restless.

-Click!

-Click!

-Click!

I simply loved photography.

I immersed myself in it every day.

I was always obsessed with taking the perfect photo.

-Click!

That was my entire life.

-Click!

A life punctuated by photography.

If you stripped away the photos from such a life.

-Click!

Nothing would remain.

-Click!

I focused intently on what could be my last shoot.

‘Breathe.’

I controlled my breathing.

I perfectly controlled all my muscles.

-Click!

I felt certain.

The same feeling I had every time I created a masterpiece.

I was confident the photos I took here would be my magnum opus.

Perhaps…

This might be the moment that gets recorded in the history of photography.

“Woojin!”

I heard the guide shouting from behind me.

“Come back now!”

However, I ignored him.

-Click!

I just kept pressing the shutter.

“You fool! Come back!”

I was already in a state of mania.

Enchanted by the snowy mountains, unable to leave.

-Click!

The guide shouted again.

“The ground is collapsing!”

That’s when it happened.

“Ah.”

The moment I took my eyes off the viewfinder.

Crrrr…

The section I was standing on suddenly caved in.

“Woojin!”

I felt a sense of weightlessness as the guide’s cries echoed in my ears.

The ground beneath me gave way, and I started plummeting toward the distant ground.

“Damn…”

I saw the guide rushing toward me, reaching out his hand.

He looked sorrowful.

I was just sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.

Was it an illusion?

Everything felt slow, as if time had stretched like taffy.

“This is really the end.”

I had finally taken my masterpiece…

“But I won’t be able to show it to the world…”

In that stretched-out time, the guide’s words came back to me.

That all life rushes towards death.

Sigh…

I closed my eyes, accepting my death.

Death had already been close to my life, so I wasn’t afraid.

It just felt a bit sudden.

Finally, the dark shadow…

“Uh?”

But then it happened.

In the darkness, the photos I had taken over the years fluttered like petals on the wind.

Moments I had captured…

Times I loved…

All those countless past moments were falling with me into the endless chasm.

“Ah…”

And then one photo caught my eye.

“Please…”

I reached out desperately for that photo.

“Please, please…”

I was young.

“Woojin.”

Maybe it was my eighteenth birthday?

Yes, it was the first photo I ever took.

“Woojin, do you like it that much?”

My parents had given me a camera as a gift.

“Mom, Dad. Sit down.”

I had fumbled with the camera, saying,

“I’ll take a picture of you.”

My first subjects were my parents.

The photo with that memory.

I reached out with all my might…

Grab.

I finally managed to grab the photo amidst the fall.

At that moment.

The sense of weightlessness vanished as if it had been a lie.

My consciousness drifted through a long tunnel.

Defying the inevitable. Reaching a place of darkness.

“Ah…”

As I wandered through the thick darkness.

“Woojin.”

A familiar voice reached me.

My parents’ voices.

When I slowly opened my eyes again.

“What are you doing? You said you’d take a picture.”

I saw my parents sitting side by side.

“Mom, Dad…”

And so…

“Woojin? Why is he suddenly…”

At the moment I reached the brink of death,

I had returned to my eighteenth birthday.