A digital image that shows the silhouette of a male figure on a mobility scooter surrounded by other pedestrians.  The silhouette of the male figure is partially transparent, making it hard to see against the yellow background of the image.

Artist’s Statement:

When your 6’2’’ height is suddenly reduced to about 4’ 2’’ as you climb aboard a mobility scooter, your view of the world changes, and the world’s view of you changes. As I drive along the busy sidewalk, it’s easy to feel invisible. It’s not so much that people don’t see the mobility scooter approaching… it just feels that they often don’t see the person riding it. People simply don’t look you in the eye the way they used to. It’s a constant reminder that I am no longer “designed” for this world and its curbs, snow banks, and out of order subway elevators. Many people are very friendly, but the fact is I know I can make some others feel uncomfortable (running into old friends you haven’t seen in a while can be an interesting experience). We live in a world where people regularly whiten their teeth, Botox their wrinkles, and celebrate the young and beautiful. That can be a challenging world to navigate in a mobility scooter.





Bio:

Music has always been my first love, but after getting my BMus from University of Toronto, I switched directions and studied art at OCAD. After graduating I worked as an Art Director at various advertising agencies before eventually becoming Group Creative Director at MacLaren Toronto. As my MS symptoms progressed, the demands of that career – the fast pace and demanding hours – finally became too much to handle.  

Since 2014 I’ve been on long-term disability.  I’ve had to say goodbye to many aspects of my ‘old’ life, as I learn to accept the realities of my new life. I use my creative hobbies to remain connected with the world around me, specifically painting, illustration, and writing music. This disease can be very cruel, in that over time parts of your body and/or mind seem to die one at a time, and you never know what will be next or when it will occur. I’ve had to learn to make friends with uncertainty. MS may not be a death sentence, but it is indeed a life sentence.