A seriously dog-eared copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance had been mysteriously placed amongst the science fiction section of my high school library.

Putting aside Asimov for a moment, I was sucked in by the cover art and the eclectic title. Seemed to be about a motorcycle trip. And other stuff.

I read it through comprehending about 30% as the unexpected philosophy unfolded amongst its pages. But it went in somewhere, and over the years I re-read it maybe ten times. Each time understanding it all a little bit more. Each time understanding it less.

The place to improve the world is first in one’s own heart and head and hands, and then work outward from there.

— Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values 

–ooOoo–

Walking up the side of the hill, when this motorcyclist pulled up at the verge. I lifted my camera into the sun to get a silhouette shot. A little too far away, but the photo still turned out okay, I think. Let’s give it a 7/10.

The rider tooted his displeasing tinny horn twice. Short. Maybe a hello. Maybe a fuck off. I couldn’t tell. Then like a cowboy turning his horse away, he was back on the road and gone.