I love my new studio. The work space is light, airy, and has good bones. Now six weeks into the forth quarter, I’m happy to declare that I’m home. The last couple of years had some holes in the routine that kept me from feeling like a full-time bicycle maker. The holes are filled.
We don’t often get a chance to put what we do under the microscope. I’ve been looking at the trade as well as my part in it on and off since the turn of the century. I’ve been critical. Judgmental. I’ve given myself to it. And have also taken myself out of it. It’s not the same conversation I entered as a nineteen year old. The years, especially the last ten or so, have proven that. And, with my reboot in 2016, I couldn’t be more comfortable with what’s left of it.
There have been moments this summer while waiting for the contractors to finish their tasks, moments when I reflected on my years at The Peddie School, and how it seemed normal, and so right, to try and break all the traditions and make the place my own. That’s what the young do. But when I went out into the world, I finally realized that the institution wasn’t anyone’s, much less mine. It belonged to time, and time would shape it. I feel that way about bicycle making too. The future happens, methods and markets change, and the kids will be alright.
.
