Author Archives

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

• “In the midst of life we are in debt, et cetera”

  By Bill Pearse on May 18, 2017 • ( 15 )

  

  Wednesday, that day time slows every week, with Lily on a late-start for school, the possibility we could all sleep in until 7:30 but never do, a day I work from home with Charlotte on early release, meaning she gets… Read More ›

• ‘We’re a happy family’

  By Bill Pearse on May 17, 2017 • ( 11 )

  

  We craved some intimacy with each other that was probably sexual in nature but we didn’t know how to express it yet so we stayed up late talking on the phone and fell asleep next to the handset, and when… Read More ›

• ‘Like frogs or rabbits’ | on living in the present, and wandering

  By Bill Pearse on May 16, 2017 • ( 30 )

  

  May 15, 2017 Faint rain, imagined snow. Mid May and it’s still stew weather, heavy stouts. I have to run the heat in the morning driving in to work but refuse to wear a jacket and then turn off the… Read More ›

• ‘Blood stain from a rabbit carcass on the front doorstep’

  By Bill Pearse on May 15, 2017 • ( 11 )

  It took me 55 minutes to walk from my mother-in-law Beth’s back to our house after dinner. It was dusk but I didn’t get rained on, I got home before dark. There’s a part of the walk that goes up… Read More ›

• Six days in hell one May, Las Vegas

  By Bill Pearse on May 13, 2017 • ( 14 )

  

  I needed a win pretty badly. I’d just gotten off a project from two years that really never went anywhere. I didn’t realize there’s a skill not only to leading projects but killing them or figuring out how to get… Read More ›

• The moon’s broken head in our lawn

  By Bill Pearse on May 12, 2017 • ( 4 )

  Though they said it was full there was no sign of the moon behind the clouds. The dog’s muzzle started to go white, we just noticed. We asked one another if they’d seen the same thing or it just happened…. Read More ›

• Sugar for the pill

  By Bill Pearse on May 11, 2017 • ( 16 )

  

  I left work, got in the car, turned up the heat. Stopped at Whole Foods and spent $59 on sushi, beer, incense, an organic squash and head of garlic. Caught myself chewing the hair that grows beneath my lip driving… Read More ›

• The clouds above the development like medical gauze papery, multi-layered

  By Bill Pearse on May 10, 2017 • ( 2 )

  In the area where they’re building new homes, where before it was trees and native plants and now they’ve cleared it out, razed and re-sculpted it, planted new grass and trees to make it look like it was always there,… Read More ›

• Fugue in G Minor (“keep it like a secret”)

  By Bill Pearse on May 7, 2017 • ( 19 )

  

  It was hard to understand my relationship with that CD. I remember the day I bought it in Portland my last visit to Loren before Germany. I knew the record but felt I should own it on CD, I only… Read More ›

• Blue skied an’ cleared one Saturday 

  By Bill Pearse on May 6, 2017 • ( 7 )

  

  The slow collapse of order brought me comfort, the release to chaos. The house in disarray with shoes everywhere and kids and unclaimed cups and odd dining hours (10 o’clock for dinner) that reminded me of our times in France… Read More ›