One of the weird things about being a biker is how casually you begin to accept frequent danger. I don't mean the danger of getting in a crash - that's an understandable danger, something that you can control by biking carefully, taking your lane, keeping your brakes tuned, and wearing bright clothes/lights. It's the uncontrollable dangers that occasionally wake me at night.

Last night, I was biking home from looking at my new place (more on this later). It was dusk, which is a dangerous time to be biking. I was riding fast but carefully. Though I was wearing all black, I had front and back lights on my bike, both with fresh batteries. I was riding south on Memorial, a 5 lane road with a central turning lane. I saw a green light at the intersection ahead. The road was deserted except for a car at the intersection's turn lane waiting to take a left. I was a good two blocks away and they had plenty of time to turn before I arrived at the intersection, but they didn't turn. I got closer and I could see the driver, a young black man* looking at me and joking to his laughing friends. The car remained still, and I preceded through the intersection. I was watching the driver, I saw him shift his hands on the steering wheel, I swerved, he shouted something, I took a fast curve into the opposite side of the road, just barely missing his car as he drove through the intersection aimed at where I had been a half second ago. He shouted after me as his car screeched off. I am absolutely sure he was either trying to hit me or at least force me to jump off my bike.

That's what I was thinking about while I tried to sleep this morning. Biking is not a dangerous mode of transportation. Drivers make it dangerous by throwing drinks at cyclists, merging into our paths to "teach us a lesson," nudging the back wheels of our bikes, honking as they pass us, shooting darts/arrows/bb's at us, and driving full speed through crowds of racers**. You people make me too frightened to sleep. You people make the decision to use a bike as my primary form of transportation a question of survival, rather then one of economic or environmental impact.

That's why I didn't sleep last night.


* I mention the driver's race/age because I've found them to be a lethal combination in Atlanta. The first time I was deliberately knocked from my bike was when a black teenager jumped into the street in front of me and punched my shoulder (when he ran, his friends did stay and help me clean the blood off my hands and shoulders/side). I've had stuff (rocks, full drinks, bags of trash) thrown at me 6 times, and 5 of those times the attackers were young black men. I'm sad that the response I've learned from all this is to be immediately more cautious when I see a black teen driving near me.

A caveat: when the attack is non-physical (being called a faggot, horns honked, told to "get my ass off the road") then chances are it's a young male of any race.


** These are all things that have happened to cyclists. The dart, arrow, and bb gun attacks have happened several times in many states, though I've never been victim of one.

One of my roommates makes puppet shows:

Last year I hosted a Quebecois couchsurfer for a few days. We had a great time hanging out, and we've been keeping up a little bit through facebook in the months since he moved back to Canada. I just got this message from him a few minutes ago. It means a lot to me, and I think y'all will be inspired by reading it:

Hey! I'm the guy who was couchsurfing at your place a year ago, in case you don't remember some of your facebook friends (something that happens to me often...). I was filming a movie on the elections and the racial problems in the United-States. You invited me to cook some food for the homeless, and the next day, I rode your mother's bike with you through the coolest critical mass ever. These are good memories. The more I think about it, the more I realized that my stay in Atlanta has guided my life for the ending of 2008 and almost all 2009.

After staying at your place, I had a different view of homeless people, having met them in Atlanta. That view was later to be completed by another couch-host that I met later on. But I want to concentrate on some of the details. You told me that getting around the city is way easier on a bike. We arrived late to the critical mass, but yet we went on that crazy chase throught Atlanta to find the mass of cyclists. I was not in shape, I was trying to keep up with you and the other cute girl. When we finally joined the mass, I discovered how cool it was to cycle in the city and I discovered the power of being a cyclist vs driving a car. After, we ended up in that little bar, we met back with the cute girl and some mexican guy, and I had to much to drink. But it was good. At the end, I made it in time for my bus and went to my next destination, Miami, which was boring as hell compared to what I lived in Atlanta.

All the way throught the end of my trip, I kept in mind that a bike was the best way to go around a city. I ended my trip in Vancouver. There, I bought a bike (an old seventies girl's cruiser!), found a job and an appartment and lived some of the best 5 months of my life. I rode in the critical mass over there and it was awesome. It was no surprise that after a month in Vancouver, I decided I was going to ride back home to Ottawa. 4000 kilometers of riding throught mountains, plains (with horrible head wind!), and the hills of Ontario. My goal was to get back home while seeing my country.

That was probably the most challenging feat I have done in my entire life. The mountains where terrible, the head wind was nasty but the worst were those rainy days in the hills of the north of Lake Superior. All in all, I arrived in time for my mother's birthday on the 29th of july, and everybody was very happy.

I am now studiying in cinematography in Montreal. I ride my bike everyday. I even became a bike courrier for a week, but decided to quit. Not that it was hard, on the contrary : it was too easy and they were not giving me enough calls, so it wasn't paying much at all. But I'm gonna keep biking all through the "terrible" Canadian winter. I also have plans to finish my trip across Canada with my father next summer. Since me and my father were not very close in the pass few years, this could help to bring back a good and more intimate relationship between the two of us.

And it all started with your intervention. It's amazing how people can just set your life on a new course. Perhaps you had no idea of all this, and you think you didn't do much, but Atlanta was the beginning. I want to thank you for what you have done.

Xavier

P.S. By the way, I'm in an awesome shape right now. I could take you on anytime :P
P.S.S. Whenever you feel like visiting your north neighbour and freezing your ass off, give me a sign, my door will always be open.

Addendum: I've been looking through my livejournal history for stuff I wrote about Xavier's visit, but the only entry I can find is this one.

I took pictures of Beverly modeling Monica's fort for a contest.





My website still isn't up. I still cough when I stand or sit at my accustomed speed. I can't handle this stress.

You can download most of V/VM's albums here.

This is what I spent the night taking pictures of:



Here's how it turned out:




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This is what I've been shooting lately. To tell you the truth, this last set of shots feels pretty bland to me.( More pictures... )

I could really use some wisdom on the whole Moving To Chicago question.

I am pretty sure that this series of pictures make somewhat compelling arguments against moving to Chicago.  I mean, here in Atlanta, 5 of the parties I've been to in the last month have had bouncy castles.  2 others had slip n' slides.  If I move to Chicago, I won't be really warm for at least 5 months.  Is that something I can deal with?  What do I need to be happy?

I have a decent job waiting for me up in Chicago. The job starts in late January, which is also when the lease on my current place ends.

Plus/minus:

+ the job pays twice what I currently make.
+ I could probably stay with my Uncle Karl for free.
+ Karl is one of my favorite relatives.
- The job is not in an industry I'm interested in. (It's IT work connected with assisted living communities)
- It is cold in Chicago. I wouldn't be able to ride my bike until at least late June.
- The job would involve sitting in cubicles for long periods of time.
+ Relatively little supervision at work. (ie: I can come in hungover and spend lots of time working on my own projects as long as the work gets done.)
- The work is really boring. Spreadsheets boring.
- Karl just bought a house with his long term boyfriend/life partner/whatev. I might be harshing their domesticity.
+ If I worked in Chicago January through late summer, I could save enough to pay off my student loans. I would also have a lot of extra money.
- I know almost zero people in Chicago. I know zero people who are into the industries I'm considering (fine arts, photography, writings, etc)
+ Chicago is one of my favorite cities.
+ I would no longer be living in squalor.
+ My roommates would not be insane.
+ There's a pool I can swim in during my lunch break.
- I would be abandoning all the projects I've been working on for the last year, just as they're starting to show potential.
- I might be trapped at the Chicago job via complacency for a lifetime.

The + and - I've listed here have different weights attached to them, obv. Still, I would appreciate any advice you can give me. Also, feel free to text your advice to me: 404.754.9469. Especially feel free to text me on Tuesday and Thursday between 4:30 and 9pm EST, when I will be at work and bored.

Also, considering hopping a train for a music festival in Richmond next weekend (August 21-23). Holla if you're in Richmond/DC.

Pictures taken in a bouncy castle on Friday night, presented in reverse chronological order.
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Saw a band called Ga'an last night.  They're amazing.  I took some pictures - I'll put them up soon.

Now I'm drinking sake and reviewing life's most notable recent events, last to first:

That's the end of my notable things.  I haven't been having many adventures lately.  We threw parties at Fishmarket these last two weekends, and they were the usual good times.  But I haven't gone exploring, and that makes me unhappy.  I haven't had a good conversation which also involved walking long distances for a few weeks.  I haven't been deliriously happy since some time mid-last-week, and that makes me unhappy.  I feel like I'm coasting, and I hate that.

Temporary solution:  I am forming a costumed Jenga league and tournament based loosely on the luchador tradition but with more drinking.  If you'd like to get in on that and you live in Atlanta, lemme know.  We're having a preliminary practice tournament this Monday at 9pm.  Bring tequila.

* I don't think we've been seeing each other more than two or three weeks, so I was sort of expecting this.

I'm trying to take the time to make friends with people right now. It's hard. You forget how much of a process friendship can be. I've been meeting huge numbers of great people over these last few months, and we're friends on Facebook, and we say "hey" and talk about our projects when we meet around town... but we don't argue with each other, we don't laugh at private jokes, and the silences are uncomfortable.

So lately I've been really making an effort to connect with the people who interest me; I stay through the superficial part of the conversation, I try and build a lasting connection, a shared picture of who both myself and the person I'm talking to are.

Unrelated, here is a picture of me taking a picture, photographed by scary_mary , who is mysterious.



Please pay special attention to my massively gnarled knee muscles. If my body was a brick house, 80% of the bricks would be in my knees and 10% would be in my calves. If I got in a kicking contest with a mule, I would win.

Recognize.

PS: I heard a person using the phrase "REAL TALK" in a conversation the other day.  They weren't being ironic.  I was terribly impressed.

If I told any of you that the Fishmarket party on the 19th would be unicorn/lion/sea turtle themed, I may have been lying. I didn't realize I was lying until today, when I discovered how many people wanted to loan me kiddy pools. This will totally be a pool party. You can still dress up though.

Looks like The Judies will probably be headlining, supported by a few excellent touring bands.

I'm sorry!

Too heart-healthy quotes from today:

Via Cedric, my next door neighbor, who does beats and stuff for rap and r&b, speaking to me a few days after the party:

"this is gonna be one of those things, one of those places people remember in 40 years, like... Haight-Ashbury, you know? Like I saw that girl playing the guitar by herself, and everyone was sitting on the floor around her. And I thought, damn, even I would sit on that dirty-ass floor to hear her!"

Via Mathew, a bike messenger I am pretty sure I've never met except through incestuous Atlanta bike kid association, speaking to my roommate Sergio:

"Oh, you live with Ben? Yeah, he's really fast."

Now I've got to go figure out how to print and frame/present photos for a show which is actually this Friday, not the Friday several weeks from now.

My new intern* sent over a transcript of the interview I did last Friday with Vicki Kelly, who recently organized a really huge art show in a section of Atlanta most people consider the ghetto.

Once you read this excerpt, I think you'll understand my hesitation to let anyone see these interviews until they've been heavily edited:

Ben: Um, yeah so, I guess, can you tell me where you’re coming from just in relation to the fourth ward art world first?

Vii: From the …uh. Well the old fourth ward is kind of you know everybody there’s my family and I’m really far away from, so I spend a lot of time there. I have the businesses are very important to me there so I wanted to bring my people and more culture to the area, and … yeah…you know bring some money to the area, and just like let people be aware of the … [stammers] nobody really knows what the old fourth ward is. Nobody knows. When I say the old fourth ward, it’s like people automatically assume like it’s a horrible place and you shouldn’t even drive through it. So it’s, just a matter of getting more people out there. Because its,.. what fourth ward I believe is can be an epitome of Atlanta, in a sense. It’s where you can go in Atlanta to experience every single level of Atlanta. You’ve got like rich yuppie people and you’ve got a whole bunch of hipster bikester… biker riders because you’ve got like the bikepack dunks, you know? Its um..not a lot of and [laughs]…then you’ve got like crack heads and people asking you for money constantly and you can get your car broken into and, I don’t know. But at the same time you can find opportunity there that I think is in one of those little sections of Atlanta, that’s easier to find.

Ben: Is there a... just to be clear that the old fourth ward is sort of harmless, chip of the card? Like the structural part between Ponce and …Memorial?

Vii: I would say, I think it ends at DeKalb. I’m pretty sure it ends from Ponce and DeKalb. Maybe North to DeKalb. Nah, I think its Ponce and DeKalb.

Ben: And the piques sort of weird too, I mean that’s an area with a lot of history, I guess. A lot happened there too.

Vii: Like Martin Luther King

Ben: Yes. Everything. you know and then..leaders from right there.[had trouble listening to it]

Vii: It’s the most visited state park, I believe in the country. Someone had told me that once, but I’m not quite sure. [Laughs]. Yeah, there’s a ton of history there.



I've included this picture from one of my most recent cat washing photoshoots as a chaser to that long block of text.

* Yay!!!!

A day in my life picture/narration thingy below.

Link to post on the ADIML community.

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Dear Piedmont Park dogpark:  You are great.

Dear moms with facial piercings and awesome tattoos:  You are great.

Dear dogs in casts:  You are great.

Dear Piedmont Park bridge with amazing iron and mosaic work:  You are great.

Weird conversations tonight. Mainly with people I've hardly met:

1. A guy named Edgar who may have been at one of our parties, wants me to come to his party, says there will be unicorns.
2. A girl named Jayne who I know by sight but have never actually met, talking with me on facebook about Boethius and insisting she's a Republican.
3. One of the local homeless guys, asking me how Matt (my former roommate) has been doing since traveling to Spain.

This is a piece I'm working on for an upcoming show:


I don't know how or why, but apparently I'm going to be showing my stuff at three galleries this summer? I am mainly frightened. Like, I do not understand the process of printing and framing a photograph. At all. How much does this stuff cost? Where can I find frames? I feel like using seran wrap and cardboard.  Also, is it weird to show up on a bike with my pieces tied around my backpack?  Do I have to stick around the gallery for the entire time people are looking at my stuff?  Should I pretend to not be Ben Grad, and try to talk up the pieces they're looking at?

Anyway, I'm not sure how good the idea illustrated above is.  I like the idea of combining visual, textual, and geographic information.  I like the idea of helping people find neat things.  And I like the photograph.  But how does it all work as a whole?

Please please please comment with your critique.  And feel free to comment anonymously.