tricycle finds comrades

In the last few months, it has become clear to me that the tricycle’s artistic arc is coming to its resting place. a.g. tricycle has been a vehicle, literal and figurative, that has taken me on a tour of my own creative impulses. It is weird, it is absurd, it is old, it is mundane, and it is beautiful. Perhaps unfairly, now that a.g. has shown me all that it has, I’m feeling that it’s time to get up off its tiny frame and find what else is out there.

But there’s a little bit more to do, a few more adventures to document before retiring a.g. to its backyard garage. This film will be our third-to-last together — at least, that’s the plan.

Tricycle Finds Comrades came about organically, in the secluded area of Cohasset, California on land that has been tended for five decades by a remarkable woman named Susie Lawing, along with her family, friends, and helpers. I was visiting along with a dozen others for a dance retreat, organized by Jessica Lawing Adams (Susie’s daughter) and Dana Lawton. I brought a.g. with me on a whim, thinking I might do a little bit of dancing with it while I was there. But the universe had bigger and better plans.

Many years ago, Susie built a dance studio on her land, a gift to Jessica upon her graduation with a dance degree. The dance studio sits on the top floor of an old barn. One day after class, I was exploring the dusty old space underneath and discovered something that made me jump for joy and laugh aloud: a treasure trove of tricycles.

Of course, this seemed to be a sign from the absurdist deities that there was art that must be made, and so we did. The dancers, teachers, accompanist, Susie, and even her assistant chef, followed our weirdest instincts and ended up with this film — almost more of a documentary of our magical time in those woods than a piece of art. Or perhaps it is both at once.