Riding a motorcycle is more like music than like driving. It feels like a progression of moods and feelings. The destination, the road, the meaning or purpose of the trip, all that should come later.
The feel of the experience is the important thing, not the ability to verbalize or analyse it.
I went on a motorcycle trip from Bali to Java to shoot an adventure movie for Vintage Rides, and while having a movie camera in front of me, and deserts or volcanoes in my back, I felt like Steve McQueen riding in Bruce Brown’s doc ‘On any Sunday’.
It felt like I was in a dream, and I was an eternal rider.
Funny enough, acting for the camera was infusing me with a sense of freedom, instead of constraint or self-awareness. But was it the camera? Was it the classic Royal Enfield motorbike we were riding? Was it the Indonesian culture? The off-roads? The rice fields and landscapes around me? Was I part of them? Were we all one?
Don’t know where, but I remember reading once that ‘the most honest form of filmmaking is to make a film for yourself’. We did. That’s what we did. We made a movie for ourselves. We lived a true adventure in which we were the protagonists.
It felt like I was living in a dream, so it might have been a dream.
But it wasn’t. When you drive a motorcycle, your mind is constantly spitting thoughts. But sometimes, only sometimes, you might find an empty road, a jungle or a dirt road where your mind can’t talk.
Coming out of the volcano in Bromo, I had a moment in which my mind shut up and a silence grew between us. A silence I stopped trying to fill.
I could breathe the space between my thoughts.
I don’t know, was that a dream? I find myself in a dream state lately.
Experience Provider: Vintage Rides