Category Archives: identity

No breaks (from a plane)

Posted on March 23, 2019 by

There were times I felt like I had to write, I had the impulse, to save the moment. I thought I could just throw my arms out and surround it, I could throw my line in the water and bring … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, prose, travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

The complicated way you express your love

Posted on February 2, 2019 by

The rain came back, so long since we’d seen it I went outside waiting, listening for it, trying not to draw parallels to my dry January: Dawn and I got a table at the steakhouse, a split of bubbly, and … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, poetry, writing | Tagged , , , | 11 Comments

First time hearing Can with my percussionist friend, Loren

Posted on January 27, 2019 by

How many memories do you keep in a jar on that shelf? Here’s one from my 20s, driving across a bridge at night with the stereo up loud. Were we out of our minds high on the energy of our … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, inspiration, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , | 7 Comments

Sunday’s flattened head

Posted on January 20, 2019 by

On the five-hour drive to Brad’s cabin I kept it cool in the car to stay awake, to keep my cold tolerance up. Driving across the state to the east, how it all flattens to farmlands and big skies, windmills, … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, Memoir, writing | Tagged , , , , | 12 Comments

The day I turned purple (2019)

Posted on January 12, 2019 by

After 10 days without drinking, the swelling in my lower gut finally went down. A balloon losing air. On Monday I was offered a new job, and on Friday I turned in my laptop and said goodbye. The January bugs … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , | 28 Comments

On Sundays and holidays

Posted on December 30, 2018 by

We spent the aftermath of Christmas on Whidbey island, a town called Langley, so idyllic they still have phone booths with free local calls, wild bunnies, signs in the shop windows promoting inclusion, views of the water, a bell to … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, Memoir, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

It could nearly be like a picture print by Currier and Ives

Posted on December 25, 2018 by

I went back to a small box of memories from 1986, a cassette I bought and the Sony Walkman I played it on wearing a second-hand coat and buying my first pack of cigarettes, walking the hillsides and small neighborhoods … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, Memoir, writing | Tagged , , , , , | 14 Comments