Benched Week 51: where the bench takes me

The idea was a good one. Since we were in Glenwood Springs, CO, for two nights, I’d arise early to sit on a bench at a bus stop and let the route decide at what bench I’d end up.  I knew only a little about the town.  It’d be a benched adventure.



At first, it seemed promising.  I arrived at the bus stop and found a young man asleep on one of the benches.  A little while after I sat down nearby, he awoke and I started a conversation with him.  Ian is in his twenties with a stud in his lower lip and a thoughtful, slightly pained expression – not surprising after a night on a bench.  We talked about his somewhat itinerant life.  He was on his way to see his mom that day in another part of Colorado.



Riding the bus, I decided to get off at the edge of the small downtown and walk for a while; to see what bench it had to offer.  Along the way, I discovered many quirks, like a theater touting a vaudeville review. And this store that has an interesting idea of who’s cool.



And this store dedicated to the fine sport of Frisbee golf.



And this shot of a welcome surprise that I’ve named,“Exactly,” for visual reasons.



As for benches, this rustic one in front of a Chinese restaurant seemed about right.  But as I sat and watched tourists stroll the sidewalks, I found little to engage me, with the lone exception of the curiosity of streetlights on in broad daylight. The benched adventure had turned out a bit flat.



On the bus back, I overheard two a conversation between two brothers in which the younger dropped the f-bomb, happily reported by the older brother to his mother.  “No, I didn’t!” protested the younger.  “I said ‘vaudeville’!”  The mom proceeded to lecture, at length, the older brother for his language (despite his protests), expanding to its implications on his future career.  On the pretext of photographing the mountains, I took a few of the family.



Which then caused the little boy in the seat ahead of me to turn and ask, “Are you going to take pictures of us, too?”  In response, I hastily drew him a sketch of a smiling rabbit and handed it to him as they got up to leave.  I wish I had been quick enough to snap a shot of him, out in front of his mother, walking the sidewalk while studying the drawing with a puzzled expression.  But I missed it.

And this is the light my benched adventure switched on for me in broad daylight: the bookends of interactions with people in transit were far more vital, more engaging than the location itself.  I need to pay more attention to the people along the way.  A book I read recently called them “consequential strangers.”  Maybe that’s a key to unlocking what art I could or should be doing: capturing consequential strangers.

It’s an idea to frame up in the days and months ahead.