I’d like to take a trip down memory lane, to a time where you had your first automotive experience. For some, it may have been the first time they took a ride in their grandfather’s hot rod and the feeling of what seemed to be a massive leather bench seat hugging their hips; the sound of the engine cranking and the excitement of the pilot responsibly hitting the gas pedal waiting for you to explode in a giggle-fit of joy. For others, it may be as simple as the first time their parents took them to a car show, where their eyes were exploding with every ounce of automotive culture that surrounded them; picking and choosing from their favorites of the show…
As in my case, it may have even started a bit late, like when I first got my license and simply fell head over heels with the freedom that accompanied four tires and a laminated picture ID.
It didn’t matter what was jolting your shoulders to the back of the seat on that first ride, and it didn’t matter that your favorite car of the show was most likely not anywhere near tasteful – because we were innocent. We were children floating through the experiences with an open mind; following nothing but the feeling in our gut without the concern of being ridiculed for what was right or wrong.
So let’s go back to that innocence – just for these few moments, at the least. And in the case of this 1965 Beetle, let’s forget the whole ‘stance’ thing ever happened. Let’s also forget the function wars; the ‘my car is better than yours because of its ride height’ apparel; the plethora of blogs and shops solely dedicated to camber specifications and the general separation that is amongst our community due to this specific type of style.
Forget all of it. Let’s be kids again. Let’s be genuine adults and enthusiasts rather than rampaging adolescents hiding behind the fortitude of our wireless internet providers. Even better, let’s be artists. Because at the end of the day, that’s exactly what we are.
As hard as it is for the gearheads and fabricators to swallow, every piece you cut, weld, and mold is you being an artist in the purest form. Those of you who are more cultural observers and simply attend meets to check out the scene, you are curators waddling through a vast pond; picking and pointing out whatever sends an emotional shiver down your spine.
And for the ones like Erik Stevenson – the owner of this near-50-year-old ratty hunk of metal –you are creators; cautiously picking your pallet, modifying your details to the nth degree as you dig through junkyards in effort to recreate that initial feeling of innocence. That first automotive ‘high’ so to speak.
Fellow artists, that high is the reason this car is on Speedhunters. It may lose to a tricycle in a speed bump battle, and it may very well be hardly even drivable (though it is). But beneath that testerone, 9-5 caffeine-enraged shell of yours, you know there’s the innocent child in you that can’t deny how freaking cool this Bug looks. It’s a rolling performance piece that some of us will absolutely adore, and others will regret they ever wasted their time stepping into the venue. So in the spirit of this fluffy chatter, let’s continue to take a step back and view the artistic direction and decisions that our artist chose to make in creating this piece, rather than instantly writing it off without understanding.
