AMONGST THE MACHINES

Sometimes it is good to pause and look back.

These photographs were taken at the Haas Moto Museum in Dallas, where a number of my paintings now sit amongst an extraordinary collection of motorcycles.

Seeing the work there has always meant something to me. Motorcycles have been part of my visual language for many years, but my interest has never been solely in the machines themselves. I have always been fascinated by the thinking behind them — the decisions, craftsmanship and persistence required to turn an idea into something physical.

In that sense, painting and engineering have always felt closely connected.

Both begin with possibility. Both involve problem solving, experimentation and countless small decisions that may never be visible in the finished object. And both carry something of the person who made them.

The Haas is also inseparable from the vision of Bobby Haas. His extraordinary curiosity and appreciation for motorcycles extended far beyond collecting them. He understood them as expressions of imagination, craftsmanship and human ingenuity — objects worthy of being experienced with the same attention we might give to any other creative form.

Although Bobby is sadly no longer here, that spirit remains very much alive. Stacey and the team at the Haas continue to care for what he created, keeping that celebration of craftsmanship, ingenuity and beautiful mechanical form alive for others to discover.

That makes it a particularly meaningful home for my paintings. They are not simply hanging alongside motorcycles; they have become part of a much larger conversation about making.

My own work has continued to evolve since these pieces were created. The mechanical forms that once occupied much of my attention have gradually led me towards abstraction, memory, material and quieter ways of exploring movement.

But I don’t see that as leaving this work behind.

I see it as part of the same journey.

The motorcycles taught me about line, rhythm, structure and movement. More importantly, they taught me to look closely at the traces people leave behind in the things they make.

Looking back at these photographs now, I feel less a sense of nostalgia than gratitude.

The work travelled somewhere I could never have predicted when I was standing in the studio making it.

And it found good company.

Some journeys continue long after the work leaves the studio.