Standing at a street corner, oblivious in the heat of summer and this mousey housewife rides by on her bike, laboriously carrying a sledgehammer upside down by the end of the shaft.

↓ Working title: “Ax me?” (540 x 598 mm)

540x598

And oblivion turned to a full-on mysterious quasi-revelation as I crossed the street, the image seared in to my cornea for a moment. The whole thing turned me on, flicked a switch in my gut, fired crisscrossing axons in my brain. Of what is a conundrum to this day. Even after visually dissecting it for a few months. Now … I love riding my bike, as do a lot of people in this tribe we call the Danes. There’s something physically gratifying in propelling yourself forward at speed, by your own power. I’ve watched the muscles of my thighs expand over the expanse of just a few weeks, I’ve transported the most unwieldy objects on two wheels (or tried to) and I’ve had some severely abrasive contacts with tarmac, gravel, walls and even cars. So there is definitely something corporeal going on. In that image. Somewhere in my mind. When that woman rode by. With a sledgehammer? A tool for hard work, an object of violence, a symbol of brute force and overwhelming power, far to heavy for her petite stature and most obviously not one she was used to carry along (it would’ve been easier to carry it by the head? I’m guessing. Who am I to know.) Nevertheless she made me stop in the middle of the street as she vanished down the street. Perplexed, I was. And almost run over by another cyclist of life. The image has since been analysed, altered, interpreted, over-worked, re-worked and now half committed to board.

I’m still confused. And turned on. What?

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