Resonances from childhood, optical flow figures ground, look up, look down. Different manner of canyon, manhole cover steam chatter jolt cracks and holes, cars whrr whirling around us, we’re smiles and laughter from stoplight accelerations and defensive swerves. Fingers won’t be cold for another hour but they will be, river and bridges, famous buildings present and not. Hypnotic stream, a Fat Bike, folding bike commuters, wheels confusingly on feet, runners with ear cans, dogs bounding near leash ends, 70’s style track suit, briefcases in baskets, high heeled Dutch bike riders. Movement in density like a gas nearing liquid form.
Body heartbeat nerves burn with the alien quick front end of this racing bike, a vague recollection in the center of my breath of it fitting so naturally those months ago, pour just a bit on and it rockets forward but I have to keep it focal because it wants to fall into dives.
Close alongside 1100 nows, nowhere I would rather be.