As a biker watching the peak riding season fade away, I want to say something.
There’s a certain kind of melancholy that comes from watching summer disappear. The days get shorter, the evenings get colder, the motorcycle gets parked a little earlier in the evening. You start checking the forecast: What time does the sun go up … or down? You start doing practical, real-life math – the kind nobody taught you in school: How cold does the highway feel at 7:30 AM when you’re going 110 km/hr at 14 degrees Celcius? Answer: Very cold.
And somewhere between thinking about the last good ride of the season and the first miserable ride of spring, I realized: Motorcycles and life-drawing have a lot in common.
Both begin with, “I’ve always wanted to try that.” Followed quickly by, “But I don’t know how.” Neither requires you to know everything. They require you to get on your horse – whether it’s the steel variety or the drawing type – and see where it takes you. You don’t need to be Valentino Rossi to ride no more than you don’t need to be Michelangelo to draw. You just need curiosity. Some practice. And a willingness to feel a little awkward.
It’s about being present. Riding demands attention. You can’t scroll. You can’t multitask. You can’t worry about yesterday. You’re there. Life-drawing does the same thing.
It’s about community. Motorcyclists have rallies. Artists have drawing groups. Both attract people who might otherwise never meet. Experts and beginners. Introverts and extroverts. Nobody has to be the best. We’re just in it together.
At NOOD, that’s what we believe life-drawing can be: A place to play, connect, and focus. Because sometimes the best thing you can do is get out of your head and into the world.
So take the ride. Make the drawing. Meet some people. Draw those curves. You don’t have to know where you’re going – just the willingness to take your pencil for a ride.
