Despite being beat half-to-death and bleeding at the end of our urban downhill rides, I love ‘em more than any other riding that I do. There’s a particular flavor of adrenaline that you get when bombing a 15-set of stairs that you can’t get grinding out miles in the country.
The whole night is shaped by the coppery taste in my mouth. Perception shifts.
A staircase isn’t a staircase anymore - it’s a terraced hill. A rail is more than a handhold, it’s a means of fast conduction. A cement parking bumper isn’t an end to a journey, it’s a transition to a new line.
We attempt to flow like a swooping airplane-hand over the curves of a lover, touching lightly and playfully to follow the dips and ledges with minimum contact. Teasing. Often, though, it’s more like high school foreplay - a barked shin, clicked teeth, sudden forehead contact.
The powerful feeling when carving mountains out of the curves and whorls of concrete is worth a million crushed shins. That’s the alchemical power of gods, handed to guys in graphic tees and Vans in exchange for blood and rubber. We’d be stupid to ever give that back.
Hello. It's me
“Hey!” I yell from my car window to the man sitting on the porch. “How are you?”
I got kicked off my porch today. Yeah, I know it sounds weird, me being kicked off my very own porch.
I move to get a better shot, and the bluebird thinks its funny.
i'm just sitting here in the late morning. the grass is green, but it's an overcast day and clouds are rolling fast. i suspect heavy rains by early afternoon, but the weather channel says there may be hail. it doesn't matter. i can get a few shots in before anything strikes. the event may actually be done by then. i'm not sure. i'm just sitting here right now all by myself. away from the crowd that hasn't shown up, just photographing anything i feel. there's birds and trees and lots of other little things to fill the space. it's just a simple process anymore, filling the void that is. there's even a thin river running by that's right over there. and here's my tree. i didn't see it at first. i'll admit my mind didn't see it at all. i just breezed right by, but as my thoughts were wondering in the spring air, my eyes keep coming back to the sensation standing right there. I just like this tree. it's magical. it's a wizard with hands flying around. but it can't seem to hold on to all of these great ideas. even if none are truly great, they're all its own, and it wants to share them with us -- you and i. so hold onto your seat. we're going for a ride. it's the day i met a magical tree.
The sun is shining. So I am writing.
I can't sleep in the dark anymore.
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