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.
I'm talking with somebody about how Rainier and Kenyon, where he lives, is like Watts. We're both from South Central LA. We're talking about South Gate, talking about how if you really think about it–
"Well, I don't believe it!!! To what do I owe this GREAT HONOR!"
It's Carlos, stepping...
Rainier and Forest, southbound. A mild-mannered Caucasian man in his twenties noticed I was the driver upon my pulling up and opening the doors. "Oh fuck yeah," he said to himself.
I've been driving the 7 at night, five nights a week, for an entire year straight. I love it....
There's still a face there, at the end of the line in Rainier Beach. She's in the back, on top of the rear wheel. A favorite seat of mine. Who likes to sit facing sideways, anyway?
"Hey," I say, ambling generally towards her, checking the now-empty bus for lost and...
A globular form is running across the street, waddling in between the lanes rather more dexterously than I might expect. He's anxious to hop on board before the light turns green. As a bus driver, you see more than your share of accidents and injuries, and the urge to...
Sometimes the words will just slip out of my mouth. Is it the collective buzzing hum of energy, speaking through me? "Thanks, everyone," I yelled out as everyone got off the 36 at Fifth and Jackson. I often say that. But then I spontaneously added, "Love y'all!"
A teenage girl...
Tenth Ave at Miller, slowing toward the curb on a gentle downhill. I haven't seen that face in a while.
"Kuuuurrtt!"
"Heeey!!"
He looks as much like Mr. Cobain as any long-faced, swarthy, tall man can, with one key difference: this Kurt grins with such infectious verve as to make you forget...
I pause at inbound Henderson, waiting for an indecisive runner. Why am I irritated? What is this rushing stress which bubbles inside of me on rare occasions, rearing its head like a stranger within? Something to work on.
"How's it goin'," I ask him as he pauses outside the front...
Photo by Victoria Holt.
I think "journal" is the accepted unisex term which allows the menfolk to save face while writing what is basically a diary. There's also the more decidedly masculine "notebook." My diary/journal/insert-other-phrase-here is rather disorganized, usually consisting of scraps of transfers and haphazardly jotted notes in various...