Summer 2025 • By NM
What Fills My Airfoil?

In August ’23, the Orein artists took a walk together and came across a team of paragliders waiting at an overlook for takeoff. First of all, very exciting. When we asked what they were waiting for, one of the men told us they needed more wind in their face. A calm day—or even a wind at your back—wasn’t ideal for getting into the air. The elements had to be against you, in just the right way. A steady headwind of 5–10 mph was necessary to fill the cells of the airfoil, form the shape of the wing, and generate the lift needed for flight. But too much wind was uncontrollable and dangerous. The conditions had to be just so—and soon, they were. We waved, oohing and aahing, as they took off and drifted enviously over the Chemung River Valley.

Back home from our walk and back to our work, we couldn’t help but think of the creative life. We’d been reflecting earlier on integrating the flaw and overcoming resistance. Now we had a concrete metaphor: it is the very wind in my face that fills my airfoil and grants me flight. Not despite, but because of.

So we ask: What fills my airfoil? What forms the wings that give flight?

They’re useful questions. If I’m seeking creative flight, I ought to see the headwinds as a gift. I don’t want a completely calm day. And when the forces are too strong, I don’t need to blame myself or my work. Why grumble? Maybe I’m not being asked to launch into the atmosphere at this exact moment, but I will be soon. My task is to wait and pay attention. And then, like the paragliders, I can do incredible, near-miraculous things.

Sometimes, as they understand, I just have to come back again tomorrow.︎ 

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