Author Archives

Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.

• Song for autumn

  By Bill Pearse on October 18, 2013 • ( 0 )

  

  A piece of fuzz in the air, a seed-bloom, a soul, will-o’-the-wisp leading me to uplit trees, quiet hillsides, hidden peaks. A voice, a dream, a memory, the sunset in autumn and softening light: Who can pretend the angle doesn’t affect… Read More ›

• When nice guys fail

  By Bill Pearse on October 17, 2013 • ( 7 )

  So I’m a nice guy, and I’m a project manager. If you can be both, I haven’t figured it out yet. Today I wasn’t a nice guy. I put the vendors on mute during an 8 AM conference call while… Read More ›

• Leave this page

  By Bill Pearse on October 16, 2013 • ( 4 )

  Enter Title Here. Confirm Navigation. My computer’s in my pocket, with me in the toilet, between my legs when I’m driving, on my lap now. It’s a pet that doesn’t need water or parasite treatments, a pet that talks back… Read More ›

• Sunbreak

  By Bill Pearse on October 13, 2013 • ( 0 )

  

  Unsteady steps on a Saturday, counting the days down. Sunday’s trash night. Monday’s swimming, Tuesday’s soccer. I’ve grown to hate the pedestrians out here. Everything about the west coast I love but it’s the pedestrians, the way they gloat, the… Read More ›

• Gray on Brown

  By Bill Pearse on October 12, 2013 • ( 1 )

  The colors mirror my insides this time of year, the muted tones and dampened smiles The earth settling in, parts of it fallen to repose in piles and patterns, Wisps of wood fire smoke: the crackle in the leaves, the… Read More ›

• Punk rock play in the suburbs

  By Bill Pearse on October 11, 2013 • ( 5 )

  

  I don’t fit in here and I don’t want to. But I catch myself wearing my work badge on my belt and strolling out of the grocery store with my six-pack, and I bet the kids who bag and collect… Read More ›

• Blue and Red Makes Purple

  By Bill Pearse on October 9, 2013 • ( 6 )

  We’re in Portland. A breakfast spot Loren told us about, we navigated here by phone. Monday morning, Portland. I’m not sure they take debit cards because there’s a handwritten sign about checks out front, but I’ve got the day off… Read More ›

• The Sponge Factory Diary

  By Bill Pearse on October 6, 2013 • ( 8 )

  Pepé told us about The Sponge Factory before we moved to Philadelphia. I made the call, and we met the building manager at the door. She had a parrot on her shoulder, and wasn’t wearing a bra. We got in… Read More ›

• It’s better to be sweet than to be bright

  By Bill Pearse on October 5, 2013 • ( 1 )

  Roxy’s not that smart. Her name is Roxy, she’s a cat, sister to the other one. She stands in the light of the laundry room while I feed Ruby, quarter to six. She stands there looking at me while the… Read More ›

• Brands, people, Starbucks

  By Bill Pearse on October 4, 2013 • ( 10 )

  Brands aspire to elevate people to a positive emotional state. But the word brand itself is cold, distant, transactional. It’s the people with the logo on their shirt that make or break it. The bright people in the corporate office… Read More ›