Here is a picture of my mother, age 15, riding a motorbike in her native Germany. I had this lovely image in sepia tone on the back of my business card for years.
I love that she is on a motorcycle, yet looks so demure and innocent, sporting a recognizable lack of pretention. She is riding outside her small village in order to collect peat from a peat bog, cut it, dry it, and use it to burn, the only source of heat in their family home. I can just smell the choking burn of petrol of the bike, the smoking peat, and the Fall weather. I can also smell the rain that likely surrounded her family's chilly evenings and the earthy smell of cabbage and potato dumplings that might have been on the stove.
My mother had been a great advocate of my expressing myself via words and scent and I am thankful for that. Placing this image of her on my business card reminded me of her belief in me, both personally and in my creative expression.
I have since changed my card, both due to my mother's having left this world and needing to morph into new territory. Now I have a simple image of a bird with a wind up key on its back. It is here I guess where belief morphs into the action of the turn key and the hope of flight.