Sensual curves, melodic sound, a big caboose. It's no wonder that cars are often referred to in the feminine, as works of art that we lust for. Their mystery and power are things of both legend and beauty, power and agility, aggression and serenity. On the tarmac, the limits of these vehicles can be tapped into with graceful footwork and pinpoint steering accuracy. Metal, rubber, plastic, carbon fiber, cloth, fuel, lubricants... so many parts moving, revolving, and internally combusting. Tears and blood through and through, for better or for worse. And on the show floors, the spirit of all these come together alongside wax and tire shine as automotive pornography. The glittering, beautiful framework covered with coats of paint and gloss are sirens leading men (and women alike) to their bank account's doom.
Everyone has their own story of what their vehicle means to them. Whether it be the visual and auditory aesthetic or performance attributes, there's something truly special about these machines that can comfortably get us from point A to point B, or from the start line to the finish line. A car can be artwork to one person and a tool for another. Beauty on the outside, a beast under the bonnet. I for one started with the pure sound of them, listening to the throaty exhausts and whining intakes. I progressed to a love for the ride, and finally for pure motorcycle-riding lust. Not the adrenaline, mind you. Adrenaline is a sure way to the emergency room. It's the "zone." That place where man and machine are in sync, where the world melts away with every synapse firing so that every nuance of the road and your body move to go forward without anything else mattering. Like a waking dream: it's something fast, delicate, and indescribable.
I hope you enjoyed the photos. Please feel free to post your own stories and love for cars, trucks, motorcycles... whatever automotive machinery that gets your heart pumping.