Mane Man

One morning in January, Joe Moscato and I shook hands for the first time. Five minutes later, he was drawing on my face. “It’s all about having an eye to see where things belong,” he said, tilting my chin with one hand as he added an inch to my sideburns with a black eye pencil. … Continue reading Mane Man

One morning in January, Joe Moscato and I shook hands for the first time. Five minutes later, he was drawing on my face. “It’s all about having an eye to see where things belong,” he said, tilting my chin with one hand as he added an inch to my sideburns with a black eye pencil. Once he’d finished shading, Joe gestured along my cheekbone to show how a longer cut would accentuate my features. “It’s all about working with what you’ve got.” I had to. . . Read more
William Reid
The Hub of the Wheel

Behind a warehouse door in East Rock, John Martin tightens a bolt and gives the crankshaft a turn, sending the rear wheel of the bicycle into a spin above the concrete floor. He leans in and eyes the rotation approvingly. It spins true—no horizontal shake, no friction. Behind him, Connor Dwyer Reynolds, the bike’s owner, … Continue reading The Hub of the Wheel

Behind a warehouse door in East Rock, John Martin tightens a bolt and gives the crankshaft a turn, sending the rear wheel of the bicycle into a spin above the concrete floor. He leans in and eyes the rotation approvingly. It spins true—no horizontal shake, no friction. Behind him, Connor Dwyer Reynolds, the bike’s owner, breaks into a smile. Before finding the Bradley Street Bicycle Cooperative, Dwyer Reynolds knew almost nothing about bike repair. But he needed a bike and wanted to build it himself,. . . Read more
William Reid