It was a thick, humid night in Philadelphia late in the aughts. One of the nights that doesn’t seem to give an inch of relief even at 2 am. I was biking back home along the Schuylkill River from South Philly – a 40 minute ride in the dark when the bike path was gloriously free of pedestrians. As I turned the corner and approached the fountain, shimmering like a mirage, I had no choice but to drop my bike and jump into the cerulean water, clothes and all. It was hands-down one of the most refreshing swims of my life, the Nymph Holding a Bittern statue gazing down at me. It was a glorious, pinnacle moment, just before the night took a turn, and I flew over the handlebars of my bike onto the pavement.
I lived. There was an ambulance ride I didn’t want to take. A pool of blood on the concrete. My head was stapled and concussed. But I often wonder, if I hadn’t taken that moment to swim in the fountain, would I have biked home safely? Life often seems to shake me up a bit when I’m having too much fun. Like a reminder not to get too comfortable. A gentle reprimand from the Nymph to stay out of her pristine waters? Or an arbitrary twist of fate. If given that moment back, I would spend longer in the fountain. And perhaps, I’d wear a helmet when I got back on my bike.
Special thanks to Jenny and Gia for asking me to tell my “stories.” I don’t think I would have recalled the memory that inspired this painting if they hadn’t kept prompting me and encouraging me to share the tea. This was a blast to research and paint. More info on the fountain can be found at: https://www.schuylkillbanks.org/blog/allegory-schuylkill-river-water-nymph-and-bittern
The Moment Before
Acrylic on Canvas
40 x 30 in
7/2026
$1200