It’s almost summer and we are downtown at the Eric 5 movie theatre standing outside waiting to get in. I am six years old, first grade going on second. We see a girl from school I’ve got a crush on,… Read More ›
Memoir
Listening to the song Dead Souls while waiting at the park and ride
The end of the season is sloppy, everything dead, on its side or overgrown. It is the in between, one season squeezed out by another, neither in their rightful place. I’ve pulled out the foxglove stalks and laid them on… Read More ›
Memento mori
It is late August and I am 7 going on 8, never quite old enough in years or in looks. My dad is a school teacher and my mom works at the bank so I stay with my grandparents for… Read More ›
Paperboy
I had never met or seen the people who lived in the houses I delivered to, but here was this girl I’d had a crush on and now I knew where she lived.
Where everyone would love to drown
I was barely 15 and didn’t have luxuriant tastes. I bought James Bond paperbacks and Dungeons & Dragons figurines. I wasn’t into drinking or drugs and didn’t have a girlfriend so I bought IZOD shirts and corduroy shorts and then all my money was gone.
Field notes from the Pacific Coast
A few years ago I did a 30-day challenge to write 50K words, inspired by an outing to the Washington coast and in part, the singer Chris Cornell’s tragic death. Cornell sang for the band Soundgarden, one of the primary… Read More ›
Kaleidoscope of pink moons
Nick Drake. The wonder of discovery of this lost soul for many of us in the late 90s. Ghostly and withdrawn he passes through like something remarkable outside your window you’re likely to miss.
New moon for you
Lily and I walked the trail to a frost-covered field the color of bone, of yellowing teeth. And she talked of her world view as it’s grown, now 16, of crystals and moon charts and social justice. And back home… Read More ›
Weird scenes inside the gold mines
There was a time life was so sweet we couldn’t afford to sleep or miss any of it. We stayed up all night for the drama of it. It was like that for our kids and I wanted to feel that again, if only for one night.
It comes in like a lion
I guess books remind us that one person’s experience could speak for thousands and we could share some intimacy with strangers, make the world a smaller place.
