I texted Lily a Spotify URL for a song while they were at dance lessons: my other favorite singer Mark (Kozelek), in hopes she’d find a connection with him. For a month I drove to work with the same playlist,… Read More ›
musings
The super, blue, blood moon blues
We got up at 4:30 to watch it, but it was all cloudy. “Discreet music,” I guess. So much for January.
A piece of Richard Brautigan (for Loren)
The cat’s eyes have gone cloudy, or maybe it’s just my imagination. She spends most nights in the garage, which would explain the need for a thicker coat. And in the morning she pulls a pipe cleaner out of the… Read More ›
Painting lessons for pessimists
The future is a sham of hope and fear- based paints that can’t advance beyond the crudeness of our own imagination.
Dream state of awareness, one day
We really just don’t have much time, which is why I get up in the mornings to write. I thought that walking with Benny in the morning yesterday, to the fields. He asked, now that you’re back in Seattle and… Read More ›
The difference between mice and rats (9:07 PT)
Join me this month for stories of our time here in a small German village where we’re visiting with my mom. This series of blogs is named after a post from 2015 (“No Christmas in Germany”) when we spent nine months… Read More ›
“Stay”
Probably the last trip up Cougar Mountain for the year. Rained from start to finish, mud in the car now, the smell of wet dog. The trail a mash-up of leaves all brown and yellow, the maples are the last… Read More ›
Light a candle for now
After the wind storm I came downstairs and looked outside. The stars were out, the moon the shape of a hook, it seemed like it was just full. I lit some candles and made coffee. All this going back to… Read More ›
In the kitchen with pinklightsabre: the cuisine of Scotland
In the morning on the third day the rain had finally stopped, the fog lifted, and we could see the land around us. I took a walk along a dirt road beneath a canopy of trees that had lost most… Read More ›
The Famous Golden Larch
I don’t know what it is about me and hats, but I keep losing mine. There was the green Irish cap I got in a small, West Cork town: I wrote the name inside the rim (SKIBBEREEN 12-15) to mark… Read More ›
