It’s a gift that can feel like a curse, to feel compelled to do art. It follows me around like a stray expecting to be fed, but won’t come when I call it. It’s the killer whale that drags its… Read More ›
writing
Ultimatum
Utah Avenue is a sad, crooked street that runs up the back side of Seattle’s industrial district. I’ve been walking this street for 17 years now since it’s where I work. It’s where I go to clear my head, get… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 