Bill Pearse

Recent Posts - page 2

• Animal Vegetable

  By Bill Pearse on February 2, 2023 • ( 14 )

  Was it Kafka who said that we are most human when admittedly animals? I can’t remember. The elephant would.  We give each other pet names and share … Animal Vegetable

• Prompting debate

  By Bill Pearse on January 31, 2023 • ( 41 )

  

  Surely there must be a scale that ranks our resistance to technology from fully resistant (1 – won’t use it) to no resistance (10 – fully embraced it). I think I’m now a “6,” techno curious.

• Orchid piece

  By Bill Pearse on January 25, 2023 • ( 9 )

  

  In the dark, in the window, in its tiny pot the orchid grows. The angles and edges we hardly notice while the orchid works to inhabit its small space. And for us no different, the quiet stirrings, the browned leaves,… Read More ›

• Cordless

  By Bill Pearse on January 19, 2023 • ( 25 )

  

  The bright red Mickey Mouse socks my kids gave me before the pandemic were now going pink and faded with holes opening at the heels. These socks, like so many things in my life, held small resonance. They meant something… Read More ›

• Through the gap in Shakespeare’s garden

  By Bill Pearse on January 13, 2023 • ( 30 )

  

  A woodsy scent of burning cedar and spice. The languid winter hours spent by the window with the lull of rain thumbing the gutters and panes. “Through the gap in Shakespeare’s garden,” that’s the phrase I borrowed from the guy… Read More ›

• Farmers’ almanac

  By Bill Pearse on January 8, 2023 • ( 23 )

  

  I read the weather forecast and despite the gloom, felt good about living in the Pacific Northwest again. The mild winters, the sing-song pattern to the forecasts: rain changing to showers, showers changing to rain. Heavy rain tapering off before… Read More ›

• In the days of auld lang syne

  By Bill Pearse on January 2, 2023 • ( 22 )

  

  I didn’t even look through it before throwing the calendar away. I used to page through them for kicks, to see what I’d written and reflect on how far I’d come. My grandmother made a practice of writing a short… Read More ›

• White noise

  By Bill Pearse on December 31, 2022 • ( 6 )

  

  Somehow one screen wasn’t enough. You could never take it all in. The volume of pleasure, the entertainment was more than we could consume but somehow never enough. It rushed in through the windows like a car gone off a… Read More ›

• The day we went to Wahlheim

  By Bill Pearse on December 26, 2022 • ( 19 )

  

  In the morning I came downstairs and turned on the portable heater. The neighbor had her Advent lights on in the window, and I turned ours on too and then made the coffee. I lit a candle and a stick… Read More ›

• The richness of the present

  By Bill Pearse on December 24, 2022 • ( 17 )

  

  The toilet angled sideways, the doorways hung low. The door sagged on its hinges and the old wooden beams that made up the ceiling, they were slanted too. Everywhere you looked, there was something to see: a white patterned fabric… Read More ›

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