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 feel like I see so many fragments of universes, the visible tips of deep and storied lives, icebergs whose temperatures and histories we can only guess at. Here are the glancing shades of a few.
Shan ("not Shannon, just Shan"), standing at the front of my 358, telling me...
On the incredible 3/4
A young man on the other side of Jefferson makes a noise. It's Jermain (from here and here, among other stories). He yells a quiet hey from across the street, and I'm happy to see him. Great. I get excited when young people show a buried promise, and you...
I think her name was Katherine, on her way to a haircut. She was up front, just boarded, watching bright-eyed as I greeted the masses on the 10. We were talking about positive energy. I was telling her what I often say, about how when you put a lot...
"How you doin'?" I ask her at Campus Parkway inbound. It's nearing midday, sunny, on a half-full 70.
"Swell," she says happily, sounding surprised to see me. I won't see her smile again.
"Thats excellent!"
She's telling me the details of her morning, which don't sound swell at all. Sitting at the...
You know how the 44 generally is around midday. Scattered students, errand runners, the occasional Ballard drunk and myself drifting back and forth on Market Street. Today's Monday, and things have been mellow even for the start of the week, which is traditionally the quiet time for both traffic...
On the 7:
He looks gruff, plugged in to his headphones, light mustache and beard cut to angle downwards, as if to set his features in a permanent grimace. I've spoken with him before, however, and he's just another fellow, put-together and forward moving, scrambling to make a life for...
"Well, you win the award for Mr. Conviviality," an elderly woman said to me as she deboarded on the tail end of the 10. It was the conclusion of an overloaded, chatty, energetic journey.
"Aw! You're so kind!"
As I drove away I was flattered by something besides her sentiment. She...
I realize in rereading this piece that it can be seen to function as a political endorsement. It was not intended as such, though I suppose I don't have a problem with it being read in that light; more importantly, rather, it is offered as a truthful record of...