The Creative Pilgrimage: Finding Sacred Sight Through Photography

"You didn't come here by accident," they insisted.

John Ortner's journey as a photographer wasn't planned—it unfolded organically through a series of seemingly random encounters that, in retrospect, feel almost divinely orchestrated. His story begins with a simple suggestion from a hippie on a houseboat in Kashmir: "There's this cave not too far from here where holy men go." Without preparation or agenda, Ortner and his friends embarked on a week-long trek into the Himalaya, arriving at a cave filled with thousands of Shiva holy men, or sadhus.

This chance encounter became the catalyst for Ortner's lifelong artistic pursuit. The sadhus—part of a five-million-strong community of wandering ascetics who invented yoga and meditation—recognized something in the young traveler. "Do you know why you're here?" they asked. When he admitted his ignorance, they told him he was there for "Darshan"—not just regular sight, but holy sight. "You didn't come here by accident," they insisted. "You were brought here for a reason."

 Darshan—Sacred Sight

This concept of Darshan—holy sight—became the foundation of Ortner's photographic philosophy. His work transformed into a spiritual practice where the camera served not as a tool for capturing spectacle but as an instrument for deeper understanding. This approach guided him through extraordinary expeditions across Asia and later through the American wilderness. He and his partner Martha embarked on a 65-day voyage through Nepal's Kali Gorge—a canyon three and a half times deeper than the Grand Canyon—walking over 500 miles through terrain transitioning from tropical at the bottom to snow-covered Tibet-like landscapes at the top.

The sacred continued to reveal itself to Ortner in Bhutan, the last Buddhist kingdom on Earth. In this carefully protected nation where hunting and fishing are illegal, animals that had never experienced human predation approached within feet of the photographers. Snow leopards called from mountain peaks at night, their voices echoing through the wilderness. The strict Buddhist philosophy of non-violence created an environment where nature's sacred quality remained intact and accessible to those who approached with reverence rather than exploitation.

Perhaps most remarkable was Ortner's experience photographing the cremation ghats of Benares, India—the oldest crematorium in the world. Even though photographing cremations is illegal (even National Geographic had to sneak photos at night from boats on the Ganges), Ortner gained unprecedented access. After showing the manager of the burning ghats his work-in-progress documenting holy men, he was invited to photograph the sacred rituals up close. "Because my aim was so pure," Ortner explains, "because I was not trying to make money with it, I wasn't trying to do anything other than show the beauty of these ancient traditions...I was given access, over and over again, to things that most people had never even seen."

The Holy Everywhere

Ortner's artistic journey eventually led him back to America, where he discovered sacred beauty in the canyons and deserts of the Colorado Plateau. After several failed attempts with other guides in Monument Valley, he met Harold Simpson, an albino Navajo descended from a famous Dine chief. This extraordinary guide led him to sacred places where orange dunes stretched for miles. In one transcendent moment, after photographing sunrise over the dunes, Ortner walked back through sage-scented air to discover Harold playing a Navajo flute on a boulder. The convergence of sensory experiences—smell, sound, sight—revealed the sacred nature of Native American lands in a way no photograph alone could capture.

Throughout Ortner's story runs a consistent thread: creativity flourishes when approached with humility, passion, and pure intention. His journey suggests that the most powerful art emerges not from chasing recognition or commercial success, but from following beauty without demanding outcome—allowing the work to be bigger than the artist and trusting the path as it unfolds.