Updated: Jul 13, 2019
My car died on a street to my son's friends house. We were going to go swimming there and then meet his other parent so I could go to work. We ended up walking up a steep hill and we made the swim party well my son got to swim I had to deal with the worse Dependent Relationship a person can have let me spell it C-A-R. Yes the wonderful automobile I always disliked these treasured piles of metal.
I liked the idea of being in a city. Yes the city was my dream New York city to be exact and I would have a studio and take the bus or walk everywhere. Well my baby's other parent had other plans, They liked the great outdoors well only if that meant we had cable inside and you watch that till you fall asleep. So what does the artist mommy do. Put the baby in the car thing. Park it in the city and go see some galleries and walk the baby around on my back. I loved it. I did not like the almost two hour drive from the country so I went less and less. My oldest was a baby model and than we started to take the bus and get a taxi. It got old staying at friends with a baby. Loving the city but missing the ease of the county from Woodstock or Kingston New York. Adding two more children later going once a year seemed more ideal.
Once I got that car it did not make my life any easier it made it expensive. It gave me a chance I thought to get away from the boring other parent and go to my job. I also had to take our child because the other parent found it too hard to do that thing called watch our child while the other parent works..hmmm guess they thought I should do it all...so considering I was and paying half the bills I left. They got a big house that needed repairs and I got a basement apartment. I worked on the weekends still while the other parent had to by court order watch their child. Of course this brought up terrible tears not seeing my child for a whole weekend when once we shared a bond of the magic that is lost amonst people too busy working and not watching time go by. So as I said above my car died and I did what my heart sang to do. I wanted to walk. I thought I would have been catching buses, subways waits, biking and walking all over a city so I would give myself this.. a fifty dollar bike. It was great. As an artist can tell with a little paint even better. Loved that bike. Found a bike shop that was selling an attached bike part called a
follow bike I put it on lawaway and in three months I paid off the hundred dollar attachment. Now my oldest and myself could ride all over town.
It was such a hit. Everyone knew us from that bike back in 2004. Noone else had anything like it, yet now I see them alot. I decided I would advertise and put my logo on the seat and red wash the child's bike and add my website sashasunart at the time. When my oldest saw their bike painted they were in AWE. I really like it mommy they said it is beautiful and so proud to ride on it. We went to the library and preschool and shopping. Mostly I would run my child to preschool and than go to the place I rented to teach my mini modern artists classes for toddlers. On the weekend when my toddler was gone, I simply unhinged the bike and went solo to work at a the local Wall Street Gallery. I dressed up for these events often wearing a dress on the bike or tossing it in a backpack until I got to work early and traded my shorts for a long gown to hand wine out to the patrons.
I made it work than and I am still making it work even with two more children. Once my youngest no longer could ride on my bike I had to get a new tag along bike so worth it and way less than a car. My middle child rides on my old bike, the youngest on the tag along and the oldest when around on their own bike. Sometimes they crumble that we are different? Or why don't we have a car? We are the closest family I know when on a bus I see them all talking together or having a snack. Maybe the oldest has the youngest on their lap reading a story. Me I am just relaxing because I know I am a terrible driver. I know I don't have to listen to my children bickering in the backseat. I prefer closeness. After everything we have been through navigating how we get somewhere is like our way of figuring out what is for dinner.
My oldest is traveling in Europe as I edit these words. I am sure growing up on a bus and making connections. Being able to ride fifteen miles on a bike to work at a camp. Walking home when it is too expensive to catch a cab if you have money sometimes you can't catch a cab. Has given this child to adult bravery and empathy to those in other places that may do the same for transpertation. Driving a car is not the only means to get around. Perhaps people would be healthier if they walked more. I was reading just the fact of a walking meditation helps grief. When you walk or ride a bike you can think clearly, often creatively. It lets you talk to the people you love. Maybe towns would not be so spread out and the roads would be safer. My problem I have is not getting up a big hill it is the people driving in cars. They scare me. They get way too close. They honk their horns at me. I am sorry I think I am not destroying the world by buying the excess gasoline or texting and driving. I am a gentle soul on a bike how am I offending you. The streets are designed for cars. They never get out of my way I have to get out of their way to survive. This anger of having cars the people in cars pull out this wild card is so powerful. I talked to someone at a thift store who does tri athathons and she said she was going thirty miles an hour on her bike. Not in the middle of the road and still the truck came up fast to her. Honked severely which is terribly scary! and than spat at her! WHY? I would like to see these car people walk a mile or ride thirty miles and hour. It really gives the kind drivers a bad name.
I hope to travel someday to a place that has no cars and feel the joy of not being harrassed or the safety of my children as we ride together. Until then I am hoping these drivers find the joy of riding like I did, from my days of being an angry driver in a car. Where I did not belong.