We spend a lot of time as project managers defining things. We define things so we can put up borders, confine. Define comes from the Old French, to bound, limit, finish. As a writer, I try to use the least… Read More ›
Errata
Arrêt
We’re playing frisbee on the side of a snow-covered mountain. I look down, and realize I’m on a knife edge ridge. Frisbee doesn’t seem like such a good idea now. The others are gone and I experience the sensation of… Read More ›
Green, Orange
Moss is emerging in our yard like a new nation, making the trees look like a psychedelic Yes album or a Tolkien book. I relocated the remains of the fruit tree to the back, day-dreamed in the hot tub, thought… Read More ›
When 5 feels like 4
I don’t know what happened to that hour, but we won’t get it back until after Halloween. I got nominated for a blog award on Friday, which felt good and was really nice, but when I got into it Saturday… Read More ›
At home with the sea
The tide pushes against my shins and my feet disappear into the sand. I’m anchored here now, against the sea, with sky, sun, moon, mountains. The water curls around me, tugging, saying You are part of this, too.
When plants and animals realize they’re unwanted
I stopped caring about my houseplants when Lily was born. It dawned on me, why do we keep carrying these things around? They looked ratty, and left stains on the window sill. One by one I started thinning them out:… Read More ›
Listening to the likes
If you want to write for others, it’s important they like what you write. You can argue they may not know what they like, or you can lead them somewhere new, but in the end, the customer is always right,… Read More ›
Leaning House of God (Trees Bend to the Light)
Some species require the shock of sudden darkness to go into bloom. Some don’t like direct sun. I feed my orchids ice cubes each week, to regulate their intake. They look dead certain times of the year, then bounce back… Read More ›
Prism
The prism is a piece of cut crystal hung in my window. We bought it at the Jersey shore in the late 70s when I was a little boy. I asked my dad for it when I was going off… Read More ›
Leave the window cracked
Each day I post something here, there’s the possibility it will carry across the world. Sometimes it feels like I’m shaking a snow globe and holding it for a few moments, for passersby to stop and look at. When you… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 