“Are these your paintings?” was the subject line of a recent late-afternoon email. Scrolling down, I was stunned to find four bad photographs of framed paintings. There was absolutely no doubt; they were my paintings from the 1980s. An art appraiser in Maryland had been asked to value the paintings for a private collector and had spent months tracking me down. Seeing them after so many years was a trip down memory lane.
Seeing those paintings also got me thinking about biking. I’ve been writing the Pedal On column for over three years. During that time I’ve written about how important cycling is for me as a way to commute to work, shop, or visit friends. It’s also a great way to stay in shape, solve problems, sooth emotional storms, and explore beaches, alleys, and roads less traveled. Those are all solid practical reasons for getting on my beloved Austro Daimler, Nishiki, Lemond, or Raleigh Professional.
As my favorite shell, Marcel, would say, it’s time for the grand reveal. The fundamental reason I started to cycle is because I paint. I have a BFA in printmaking from Carnegie Mellon. Before I was an educator, executive director, consultant, and more, I was an artist. I still am. My Santa Barbara friends may laugh, but in art school I was in love with nature and created large woodcuts and silkscreens of fields, woods, and lily ponds. Many of the images I produced were of natural beauty until I graduated and realized that I was living in urban Pittsburgh not Walden’s Pond. What I could see from my basement apartment window were rooftops and chimneys. Every day I walked along grimy cobblestone alleys.