I owned this bright red wedge for a time. It messed with my head and I learned from it.

Initial impressions turned out to be puppy love. After a few days, I became weary of the dizziness and the directness and the enthusiasm. I was sunburnt on my forehead and forearms. My back hurt.

Every time I prepare to ride my motorcycle, I think about Death.  Then I start the engine and choose to live my Life.  

Bikes like these are spirits made manifest into metal –souls on display.  They’re not about transportation, they’re about freedom of expression – living machines for people who choose to ride on the edge of death.  

It all begins with an idea.