Ghost dog way of

I’m not sure why I like this, because generally I am quite confused by whole the whole fixie slick glam aerospoke video thing. I mean I like them, because, well, who doesn’t like well-shot, rapidly edited footage of things they love?

But often around the one minute mark I wonder if there was any real point and if I wouldn’t prefer to be riding myself rather than looking at other people riding.

But I do like skull makeovers and isn’t Halloween coming up?

And basically – I’m seeing things beautiful in the way that, sometimes you see things beautiful because another person does. And there’s a folding bike in there that just pops out for being a little bit fun: more power to them for rocking their portable convenience in the face of all that hip.

Look out for it.

And look out for me in Melbourne.

I’ll have to borrow a bike, but I hope to see you on the road…

It’s almost exactly one year since I left. That’s a lot of miles under the tires. I’m never sure how I feel about coming home, but then I breaks my heart to leave.

By Eleanor Jackson

Eleanor Jackson is a Filipino Australian poet, performer, arts producer, cyclist, writer, gal about town, feminist, freewheeler, and friend.

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