Nathan Vass
Nathan Vass is an artist, filmmaker, photographer, and author by day, and a Metro bus driver by night, where his community-building work has been showcased on TED, NPR, The Seattle Times, KING 5 and landed him a spot on Seattle Magazine’s 2018 list of the 35 Most Influential People in Seattle. He has shown in over forty photography shows is also the director of nine films, six of which have shown at festivals, and one of which premiered at Henry Art Gallery. His book, The Lines That Make Us, is a Seattle bestseller and 2019 WA State Book Awards finalist.
Snarled is perhaps too strong a word, but I'm using it anyway. It's what he wanted to do. Two of us 7's had pulled up at the same moment. He snarled from outside the doors at 5th and Jackson: "so which one of you is late!"
I said, "um, neither...
I think he works at the bar down the street. A young man, perhaps mid-twenties, though his tattoos suggest the weight of history. The sharp edges and work boots are offset, however, by his clean, bright smile. The boyish look that never faded, deep brown eyes against olive skin,...
"How was your evening, Mister Ernie?"
What ends up being formative? Do we know, in the moment? Sometimes it can be as fleeting as somebody's line, a seemingly throwaway word sequence that reveals volumes, rewires how you consider life. Before I began this job I'd ride around with my close...
I imagine what irks people most about homeless populations, beyond safety considerations, is the idea that they aren't pulling their weight.
Yes, it's annoying when people give the appearance of not trying their best. We seem to appreciate when folks at least give the appearance of pulling their weight, even...
There is no entitlement in Devin. Among society's disadvantaged, some people act entitled precisely because they're not, trying to cover up for their bruised egos by over-asserting themselves. But there are those among us who recognize that kindness is not a right. It is a privilege, to be treated...
"I really like the artwork in this building."
Sitting on the late night bus headed home, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Our base is famous for how awful its artwork is. There are comments you hear not infrequently--how best to eject the art from the premises, whether or...
That's me in the picture above, at thirteen or fifteen years of age, sitting behind the wheel of a 4000 in the Atlantic Base yard (another angle of the same here, tied with a story of one my earliest formative bus-riding memories). What was I thinking about, in eighth...
On the afternoon 7, headed east on Jackson:
"Hey," a young man in a hat said at Eighth Avenue. He had walked up to the front to speak. "I just wanted to let you know you made my day."
"Oh, awesome! That's why I'm here!"
"Yeah, it makes a difference when the...