Lakeshore Loop

I kept coming back to this neighborhood in Wasilla, Alaska. Although it wasn't really a neighbor- hood. Not yet.

I've always been slightly afraid of old houses. I guess an old house is somewhat associated with the deceased.

But this was different. It was as if I felt uneasy about the future, and everything that will take place in the years to come.

What kind of people will be living here? How many kids will grow up, and what kind of people will they become? What will their memories be?

Getting around

"Imagine that we could share each other. That would eventually mean less walking."

At the bookstore

"I saw this beautiful woman at the bookstore, and — afraid of being looked upon as too old — I looked at her with disgust."

Vancouver in the dark

I still wonder why the Chinese were so afraid of me taking pictures. They ducked their heads as if they were dodging bullets. Or they picked up a phone, letting me discreetly know that steps were taken.

I kept riding. I had borrowed a bike from some friends and in the dark I could stop wearing that damn helmet.