Dean Potter, in his own words: I dream of feathers sprouting on my arms

http://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2015/may/18/base-jumper-dean-potter-in-his-own-words

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Alpinist magazine, 2009

Each time I saw a cliff, I wondered whether I could free solo it. My life shaped itself around the understanding that falling means I die. To break this paradigm I had to empty out my essence, rummaging for fundamentals I thought were gone forever.”

I know it’s whacked to look at the human form and imagine it moving free through the air without dying, but I long to feel equally comfortable untethered on the rock or free-falling in the air – to change the meaning of a slip with an idea.”

Describing a group flight in Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland

I dreamed of feathers sprouting on my arms, fields rolling far below in waves of cloud-streaked green, distorting into burnt wastelands of faint sand dunes and dust storms. Other winged humans flocked toward me. They arched their backs and brought their arms down to their sides, shifted slightly to control their flight and looked at me, encouraging.”

From his website, describing how he felt when he was walking on a high line

My vision turns black and white except for the searing red line. Sounds fade. I feel faint, face flushed with heat.

My muscles tense, but I hold calmness in my centre and loosen my arms from the shoulders to my fingertips.

The moment sickens me, and my mind tries to stop it, but I command myself to walk.”

Describing his Half Dome speed solo in Yosemite, California, 2008

I’ve thought about speed soloing Half Dome for many years, yet as my hands reach out and touch the opening holds, no thought registers in my mind. I feel my fingers take every lock perfectly and I move without fear, because falling is not within my reality … Any uncertainty I have is released with the sight of the sun pushing over the top and the clouds magically lifting.

A raven call emerges in my throat and leaves my mouth open. Life pulses in my veins. Though I acknowledge the delicateness of my existence, I flow confidently through the insecure crux, the Zig Zags.”