1. I will be sharing more bicycle urbanism propaganda than usual.

2. You will be delighted to know 10 subscribers who upgrade to a paid plan will get a free copy of the Bicycle Buddha oracle card deck in digital form.

I want a free card deck!

I don’t remember what he told me this camera is called, and I don’t remember his IG handle. I do remember hanging out for a few minutes after a chance encounter, and then he took my picture for the wall.

NYC 2017. I walked 26 miles with my stealthy Ricoh GR in a couple of days in between speaking events at a planning conference.

Water's percussive embrace,

Syncopated bliss.

My family often had Slide Show Night when I was growing up. We’d see a few landscapes or skylines taken during vacations, but almost all the shots were up close. Like most family photo albums, I suppose. Random snapshots that leapt through time and space, as if someone said, “we’ve got 4 exposures left on this roll, take a picture of the kids sledding.” The previous picture may have been raking leaves the previous Fall.

Slide Show Night was always fun. We’d rotate choosing which tray to watch, and of course my sister and I would always choose our own baby/toddler years. What kid doesn’t want to look at themselves when they were little, especially when the wardrobes and cars seemed almost alien in their absurdity. “Wait, that was just 10 years ago?!” Faces, gestures, and decorations in a documentary format. These were the memory triggers for my sister and me. I never cared much for the posed portraits.

I think it was 1988 when my parents got us our own cameras, and we’d spend our own money buying and developing film. We basically documented our Gen X life: playing in the woods, sledding, beach trips, birthday parties, and even selfies.

Where the sidewalk (and bike lane) ends

When I graduated college and started working as a transportation engineer, I still had a camera nearby. As the entry level guy, I’d be assigned grunt work like “take pictures of this road that the state wants studied. Make sure you get a few shots that we can put in our proposal.”

I kept noticing two distinct types of content in those project photo albums:

1. the charming local ingredient (e.g. historic train caboose), and

2. the oppressive transportation ingredient (e.g. wide arterial with turn lanes on all corners).

I’d think back to what it was like standing in those streets and recall how dangerous it felt getting those shots to document the transportation “improvements.” Experts were defining success in ways that didn’t make sense when you looked at the pictures I took of the study areas. You’re telling me this street is better now? No. People can’t take a comfortable walk around town or hop on a bike for short trips without risking their life on this “improved” street.

25 years later, this country isn’t exactly known for robust walking and bicycling networks. And the experts haven’t run out of excuses for giving us junk infrastructure. But the internet is accelerating progress because it’s so easy to share stories and pictures of what could be.

Whether I’m traveling for work or vacation, there’s a camera nearby. I know I’m not the only one who intentionally gets lost in a new city, meandering and talking to strangers, wondering as I’m wandering:

• What makes locals hang out and spend money?

• What makes an irresistible downtown?

• What’s the smile density of a vibrant place?

• Are kids are having fun roaming without adults?

• Are senior citizens riding bikes?

• Where’s the closest place with live music?

• How long will this camera battery last?

That’s my preamble to give you context for this subset of Urbanism Speakeasy. I’m a storyteller who happens to love photography and good urbanism.

You might only be interested in one or the other, so Street Photography will be a separate page and subscription. But it would delight me if the images and essays get you more interested in the science and pseudo-science of city planning.

Artistic inspirations that make me smile

• Daido Moriyama

• William Klein

• Joel Meyerowitz

• Garry Winogrand

• Martin Parr

Like any other art fan, I could easily rattle off a dozen names for this list. But these five photographers have most influenced my work. If there’s a documentary or interview featuring them, I’ve seen it more than once.

Type of posts that I hope make you smile

• Black & white (mostly), that’s more like a memory of an event than a precise capture of everything that happened.

• 2-3 images that might tell a story on their own or as a group.

• Color commentary and stories about people I’ve met roaming unfamiliar places.

Candid street photography is a relatively small niche in the art world. If it’s your happy place, drop a note in the comments. Always talk to strangers!

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