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.
"Heeegghhh," he said.
"Aw yeah," I said.
Just pretend you completely understand the guy, is what I told myself. Most of communication is body language anyway.
When we got to the next stop, he did the same thing all over again. To clarify the situation, I asked, "you want this one right...
"Redden, or Renton, or something. Northern."
I know what these guys are talking about. I practically yelped out the answer: "Redding, California!"
"That's it!"
"The halfway point between here and LA," I explained. "It's where I sleep when I'm driving down."
"Cool," said the younger fellow. "I did LA to Everett once in seventeen...
It's a system of peaks and valleys, life is. At this moment, somewhere last year, I was in a valley. You know the feeling, I'm sure, where you drift through the days and nights at half-speed, troubled, knowing you should probably talk about it, but stymied by the sensation...
I'm parked at the terminal, standing by my bus in Rainier Beach as I work on a Richard Wright novel. Ah, literature. A cry interrupts my reverie: Shanala is running over to my bus now, with a toddler in tow. She's probably going to ask when I depart. What...
Is it so silly, when we really think about it, to mourn the passing of a coach type? Think back to your childhood haunts. The wind chimes on Grandma's porch. The smells of your home, wherever it was, during the best years of your life. They form the texture...
Have you noticed how when people run for the bus, they're nearly always smiling? Most especially when they make it onboard, but often before that becomes a certainty, too. It's the element of the chase, perhaps, muscle memories from childhood; swatting the branches and leaves aside, during the time...
"We spoke boastfully in bass voices; we used the word "nigger" to prove the tough fiber of our feelings; we spouted excessive profanity as a sign of our coming manhood; we pretended callousness toward the injunctions of our parents; and we strove to convince one another that our decisions...
"I din' know you drive up this far," said a woman who usually rides my 7 only when deep within the bowels of the Valley. We were downtown.
"Yup. It's my route."
"He likes the 7," a passenger nearby explained. "You go to the hood, then go downtown! Go to the...