Part of Mike Pitzer's American Material Memory series, this original graphite and colored pencil pop-realism drawing celebrates the ordinary objects that quietly preserve our childhood memories. Inspired by a Christmas gift that couldn't truly come to life until three months later, this Hot Wheels Redline Silhouette reminds us that sometimes the waiting becomes part of the memory itself.
From the Artist
This little Hot Wheels Silhouette takes me back to one particular Christmas in our house in Algonac, Michigan.
I have an older brother and three younger sisters, and money was often stretched as far as it could go. One Christmas, my parents gave me this Antifreeze Green Silhouette. I was thrilled. There was only one problem—they didn't realize that Hot Wheels were designed to race on orange track, and the track wasn't under the tree.
So for the next three months, that little car never raced a loop or flew through a jump. Instead, it rolled back and forth across our dining room table. I imagined the track it would someday have and the adventures it would eventually race through.
When my birthday finally arrived, I received the orange track. Suddenly the Silhouette could do what it had been built to do.
Looking back, I realize those three months became part of the memory. They remind me that childhood wasn't defined by having everything at once. Sometimes the waiting became part of the story.
That's why I drew this car.
Today, I no longer see a collectible Hot Wheels Redline. I see two young parents who wanted their little boy to have something special for Christmas. This little car quietly preserved that memory until I was ready to remember it. My Antifreeze Green Silhouette wasn't memorable because it was rare. It became memorable because I raced it across our Algonac living room floor, our white and silver flecked Formica kitchen table, and countless imaginary highways during a particular season of my childhood.
Part of Mike Pitzer's American Material Memory series, this original graphite and colored pencil pop-realism drawing celebrates the ordinary objects that quietly preserve our childhood memories. Inspired by a Christmas gift that couldn't truly come to life until three months later, this Hot Wheels Redline Silhouette reminds us that sometimes the waiting becomes part of the memory itself.
From the Artist
This little Hot Wheels Silhouette takes me back to one particular Christmas in our house in Algonac, Michigan.
I have an older brother and three younger sisters, and money was often stretched as far as it could go. One Christmas, my parents gave me this Antifreeze Green Silhouette. I was thrilled. There was only one problem—they didn't realize that Hot Wheels were designed to race on orange track, and the track wasn't under the tree.
So for the next three months, that little car never raced a loop or flew through a jump. Instead, it rolled back and forth across our dining room table. I imagined the track it would someday have and the adventures it would eventually race through.
When my birthday finally arrived, I received the orange track. Suddenly the Silhouette could do what it had been built to do.
Looking back, I realize those three months became part of the memory. They remind me that childhood wasn't defined by having everything at once. Sometimes the waiting became part of the story.
That's why I drew this car.
Today, I no longer see a collectible Hot Wheels Redline. I see two young parents who wanted their little boy to have something special for Christmas. This little car quietly preserved that memory until I was ready to remember it. My Antifreeze Green Silhouette wasn't memorable because it was rare. It became memorable because I raced it across our Algonac living room floor, our white and silver flecked Formica kitchen table, and countless imaginary highways during a particular season of my childhood.
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