Story: It was a long time ago, but still the day you taught me to ride a bike comes back to me vividly whenever I set off somewhere on two wheels. My hair was tied back in two bunches, and I was wearing jeans and my favourite hoodie (the one with the stripes), and spring was just about to turn into summer. I remember seeing you hunched over in the yard, unscrewing stablisers and turning my oversized trike into a big-girl's two-wheeler. You promised me I wouldn't fall, steadying me, your firm hand on the saddle as I rode away. Gently you encouraged me, no pressure. Look ahead and pedal. That's it, just look ahead! And I looked ahead and pedalled. I never felt you loosen your grip, never felt you letting go. All I recall is turning my head ever so slightly after a short while and realising I was cycling on my own. I wobbled then, but I didn't fall, and from the corner of my eye, I noticed you were watching me, arms still outstretched, smiling as I rode away. There are infinite ways to love, and on that day you showed me yours. And I knew you'd always be there for me to return to, even if you were the one who'd had to let me go.
Media: Acrylic and mixed media
Surface: Box canvas
Size: 21cm x 15cm x 1.5cm [depth]; 8.27" x 5.91" x 0.59" [depth]
Copyright © 2009-2024 Diana Naomi April Shaul and Jacquie Samantha Shaul. All rights reserved.