La version française est en cours de traduction. Merci de votre patience.
I spent a bit of today worrying that I am not creating enough connections. I asked myself a lot of questions – what was I expecting before I left Seattle? Did I think I would meet twenty people a day, have lengthy conversations with each one about World Peace, and still ride all over Europe, sketch, and find internet access to post on FB and keep my blog updated???
Yeap, I did. Not necessarily realistic but as an artist, this trip is my newest artwork and as always, it is by doing it that I come to understand what it is all about. It is a slow process that takes place in darkness. If I needed a “sign,” yesterday I got it!
We all know the pleasure of “coincidences” – you get out of the train station in Timbuktu and run into a highschool friend; you discover that this stranger you just met lived in the same apartment you did, etc. It’s always amusing and a little weird.
Last night we are having dinner in one of the many charming medieval pedestrian streets of Ljubljana. After our very nice and leisurely meal, we head out to our bikes.
As I am gearing up, I hear Mike “I don’t speak French, she does.” I walk over and here, in Slovenia, 1000 kms from Geneva, I find myself engaged in a conversation with a guy from my city, who noticed our Swiss license plates. He also is really excited because he happens to have had the exact same bike as us. He is telling me the fate of his bike and when he gets to the part where he brought it to the “cemetery” – that’s the French word for the used motorcycle parts shop — I react. The cemetery: you don’t mean the one in Satigny? (a hamlet outside Geneva). Yes. You didn’t take your bike to GMC? GMC yes! Did it have a yellow seat? Yes!
The realization is sinking in. Shock. Silence. We are all caught inside our own brains.
This guy whom we don’t know from Adam happens to walk by our bikes at the exact moment when we are getting on, in a town thousands of miles away from home, and he owned THE bike that we parted out for spare parts! One by one, we show him every piece that we took from his bike. He is dumbfounded. So are we. He looks at each one – a little special tape here, a familiar scratch there. He is completely absorbed. Mesmerized, he starts touching them with tenderness with love. Seconds ago he was telling how much he wished he was taking this trip on his bike instead of his van. And look now: his bike is taking this trip after all!
The three of us went into a trance for a few minutes and now we are coming back. We look at each other and explode into unending laughter, forgetting the entire world. With hindsight I am wondering what the scene looked like to the people around us: three foreigners in the middle of the street laughing hysterically, shouting some French words when they find their breath again, hugging, kissing, laughing some more and then walking to the nearest bar to have a beer and hang out for another two hours!
The funny thing: we saw his exact bike in Pula, Croatia! (photo to prove it!)
If you enjoyed this post and would like to become a part of the worldwide community I am building, you can join a long list of supporters and purchase a piece of art. As of July 4, 2016 I have raised $9997 both through private fundraising and my Indiegogo campaign. A heartfelt thank you to all of you who have chosen to support my project and “come with me!”