The Jupiter’s Beard is fanned-out pornographic in our front yard, exposed to the root. And the grass is so dead, it’s what Gregg Allman’s beard must have looked like before he died, the same gold-straw color, drawn out thick. It’s… Read More ›
Memoir
Then the rain came
The cat knocked the plastic owl off the patio pot and its head separated from the body and rolled away, then lay in plain sight with the rain coming down, too hard to fix. And in the morning I found… Read More ›
They know it’s time to go
After 89 days without a good rain it was definitive it would come back Sunday. We were gearing up for the first fire of the season, a stew, some red wine, music. We’d move the patio furniture to the garage,… Read More ›
‘Essence of Cessna’ | on success
Thirty-one years ago the film Pretty in Pink came out. We watched it on Netflix but didn’t remember anything: not Andrew McCarthy’s flickering eyes, nor Molly Ringwald’s quivering lips. Nor the scene with the two of them in a library… Read More ›
The denial phase
Dawn and I sat at the top of our yard after we got our things out and talked. I had everything drying in the driveway, the sleeping bags draped over the cars. They didn’t need dried out, I just liked… Read More ›
Six days in the bush, Pacific Northwest style
I came to the bridge above the river, the one described in the guidebook. I’d taken a picture of it last time but it was only a green braid in the gray canyon rock, reduced down to that…. Read More ›
“More Fandom than Ekphrasis” | Bruce Jenkins on music and memoir
In case you missed it, check out this great piece by writer Bruce Jenkins inspired by a recent blog-a-day project I completed earlier this month. It’s not just being flattered by the fact Bruce riffed off my project, but that… Read More ›
“A lifetime in three days”
All is quiet on Independence Day, oddly. In my hammock with a book, leaves scitter across the sports court and could be the dog, but she’s inside. Pre-fall, even now. No need for sunscreen, there’s a thin band of clouds… Read More ›
The Chris Cornell rat scene reveal | Field notes from the Pacific coast
This is the last in a series of posts I started in late May and have published daily for 37 days now. It’s inspired by a three-day solo trek on the Washington coast, with side-story memoir scenes wrapped by a… Read More ›
Over the hills where the spirits fly | Field notes from the Pacific coast
It’s almost over, second-to-last post! This is a series I started in late May and have published daily for 36 days now. It’s inspired by a three-day solo trek on the Washington coast, with side-story memoir scenes wrapped by a few… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 