a thelonious monk of cycling.
early morning in soissons. paris-roubaix 2009.
en route sur roubaix, 2009.
this summer. during le tour. some of my work was on display some where in europe. it looked approximately like this.
this team + 1 of artists, hustlers, writers, beggars, photographers and thiefs. this team. well they are honorary consulaires of a city in flanders. and they are making a book about it. about being there and not being there. under the cobblestones and in the mountains.
he is the most well dressed man in the race.
he always drives a cabriolet.
grooming and curlers.
'like in arenberg?' i tried again, like he couldnt even hear me.
'dont be a fool' he mumbled when he went up a steep climb outside liège.
after the race, in ans - the belgian version of belfast - he called his best friend in ljubjana. he wanted to hear if the dogs were doing well.
'since when?' he asked me when i - in need of something to say - told him, that it was against regulations to wear the colour of the maillot jaune into paris. again i really didnt know what to say.