Lucas Lajoie: The Canvas & The Road
There is a singular moment on a long journey when a plan dissolves into pure experience. For artist and cyclist Lucas Lajoie, that moment began a 50-day pilgrimage across Europe. Trading a fixed itinerary for an open-ended question—what would happen if he let the road itself become the artist?—he strapped a blank canvas to his bike and embarked on an experiment in motion, from the iconic gravel tracks of the Turin-Nice route to the rolling landscapes of the Jura and the streets of Copenhagen.
Deliberately letting the world leave its own imprint, he allowed time, chance, and encounters to shape the work. The canvas, a living witness to his journey, was layered with its traces: sand, flowers, the signatures of strangers on the road, and the stain of cherries gifted by a host. It evolved into an abstract archive—a physical record of a journey that was as much about artistic discovery as it was about the joy of cycling.
“I find the same sensations in painting that I do on the bike: the excitement of setting out into the unknown, the doubts, the pain, even the possibility of failure.”
- Lucas
Who or what first influenced you to get into cycling?
My parents put me on a bike at a very young age, and I also learned the basics of bike mechanics from my stepfather in the garage. Cycling quickly became a way to share moments with my family. I also remember the era of the Schleck brothers — I used to call my dad between hockey practices just to get the recap of that day’s stage. Those memories and that shared passion are what truly pushed me to take road cycling seriously.
How would you describe your artistic philosophy?
Authenticity is everything to me. Each canvas shares my take on life — sometimes personal, sometimes about bigger social ideas. I turn everyday moments into visual stories and reimagine landscapes with colors and shapes from the imagination. Living in Quebec, Montreal, Paris, and now Sydney keeps me moving, experimenting, and letting my art evolve in new ways.
In what ways does cycling influence your creative work?
With my background as an athlete, movement is the connection between cycling and art. The abrupt end of my hockey career pushed me to fully commit to creation. Today, I find the same sensations in painting that I do on the bike: the excitement of setting out into the unknown, the doubts, the pain, even the possibility of failure — but also the deep satisfaction of reaching the top. Like every ride, each canvas is an adventure that demands perseverance and passion.
“Every mark on the canvas carries a story—from people who helped me to moments when I had to use it as gear. In the end, it became both beautiful and meaningful.”
- Lucas
How did the idea to ride with a canvas come about?
I felt a strong urge to step outside the studio and take on a bigger project, and I wanted to connect it with cycling. While the idea was still brewing in my head, I came across a backpacking tent at a thrift store (I go there often — part of the expat life!). When I got home, I shared the idea with my partner and my family, and with the support of sponsors like QUOC, I decided to fully commit to the adventure.
What was the most memorable moment from your trip?
Somewhere along the French–Italian border — I lost the canvas, which was definitely a worrying moment. My friends had joined me for this stretch of the trip, and on that particular day we had already faced five punctures and just descended a 20km gravel pass. Right before tackling the final climb of the day, I realised the canvas was gone. We returned to camp and then climbed all the way back up the pass we had just descended. At the summit, there it was — patiently waiting by the roadside, most likely placed there by kind strangers who had found it.
“At the summit, there was the lost canvas—patiently waiting by the roadside, most likely put there by kind strangers who had found it.”
- Lucas
What made you choose to ride with QUOC shoes?
Honestly, they’re the most comfortable shoes I’ve ever ridden in — and they still look great, even after a long trip. What I love most is how versatile they are: perfect for performance rides but also for big bikepacking adventures. A couple of years ago, I did a collaboration with Le Club in Montreal, and QUOC was kind enough to lend me a pair of Mono II’s to paint. Since then, I’ve stuck with them — they’re the only shoes I ride in now.
Did the finished canvas turn out how you had imagined?
I really had no idea how it would turn out, but every mark on the canvas carries a story — from people who helped me to moments when I had to use it as gear. In the end, it became both beautiful and meaningful. I’m now working on a custom bike jersey with Par Küp in Sydney using details from the canvas, and I’m also creating a collection of artworks inspired by my ride in Europe.
Are you planning to do more of these?
Yes, definitely — it’s now my signature process. For my next trip on the Tasmanian Trail, I’m bringing my art supplies to paint on-site as I go. The original canvas from my first journey will always stay as it is, a raw record of that experience. It’s the centerpiece I’m building from.
What are you building from that original piece?
I'm now creating a collection of 11 or 12 new artworks inspired by the ride for an exhibition in Montreal in early 2026. They'll be on canvases that can be rolled and suspended, offering a 360-degree view. But the original—with all its authentic marks from the road—will be at the heart of the show, so everyone knows where the story began.