As a rider, I’ve learned that not every wound needs fixing - some just need space. My bike has never solved my problems, or made my life perfect. But the second the engine fires up and I’m riding out, something in me changes. The stress, the noise, the weight of everything…it all gets a little quieter.
Out on the road, I can breathe different. I can clear my head and find myself again. The breeze, the throttle, the freedom… that’s therapy in a language only bikers really understand. For a little while, the world backs off and my soul gets the space it’s been begging for.
A motorcycle won’t fix what’s broken inside me - but reminds me I’m still alive.
🎨🎨🎨
Created in 2026
Mixed media. Framed
The size of this piece is 60 x 84 cm or 23.4 x 33 in