I have my version of this, a way of carrying myself that helps me fit into the world. It fascinates me. The stories that shape my mind and make me feel like myself, moving me forward without noticing what they’re doing. What narratives inspire me, what myths motivate: get your motor running, counterculture defiance, hang on baby I’ll straighten your hair? No, maybe it’s political skin, dying trees, if I don’t stand out, I blend in. Narrative and contrast, comic color and the calm before the storm, natural and human-made, the sun’s warm because the wind’s cold. Or maybe it’s too much time or too much money with the perfect amount of style––that’s for sure––the man on the Harley has style.