Bill Pearse

Recent Posts - page 36

• The real color of fake blood

  By Bill Pearse on October 9, 2022 • ( 10 )

  

  Now the big maple leaves are copper colored and scattered across the trails. Some have spots, most are matted together. They will combine down into a tapestry of debris and then recombine with the earth. The scent and sight of… Read More ›

• Lessons in recovery

  By Bill Pearse on October 5, 2022 • ( 45 )

  

  This is how the bargaining works, you get drawn back into the maze. And it is a kind of madness to feel like you don’t have control over your own mind. If the labyrinth metaphor works for you, consider how the walls are formed and why.

• The area of a square

  By Bill Pearse on September 30, 2022 • ( 18 )

  

  We are sitting on a swing on the porch of an airbnb in the town where Lily goes to school, Cedar City, Utah. It’s a fine town, though not much of a town. There’s a university which gives it a… Read More ›

• The coarse acting show

  By Bill Pearse on September 28, 2022 • ( 19 )

  

  But there is a similarity between acting and creative nonfiction writing in being true, through channeling a feeling for others as a form of release. Because we all need a release from this world.

• What I would do if I had the time

  By Bill Pearse on September 27, 2022 • ( 20 )

  

  Saying I’m unemployed sounds dramatic but I guess it’s true. You go through periods of being unemployed when you work contracts and for me it’s not much of a thing. Since the pandemic, I’ve worked a string of jobs (maybe… Read More ›

• On a Friday morning in September somewhere

  By Bill Pearse on September 23, 2022 • ( 21 )

  

  I have come here to see my kid. Air BNB blankets gathered around my legs, the windows cracked. The time different, the sun not yet come up, all my things in the closet or my carry-on. It is different not… Read More ›

• The journey to the top is nonstop

  By Bill Pearse on September 22, 2022 • ( 22 )

  

  I’ve had to run across the airport to catch my plane. I try to be zen about these things but part of me is and part of me isn’t. I know I’m going to make my connection because it’s just… Read More ›

• The first person

  By Bill Pearse on September 19, 2022 • ( 20 )

  

  If the phone is the new mask of Greek theater, a personō for us to sound through, perhaps our kids just understand better than we do how to really use it. Because as Bowie showed us, the self is a kind of fiction.

• I killed the crow

  By Bill Pearse on September 3, 2022 • ( 15 )

  

  So why am I spending so much time on this game? Escapism, or another form of numbing? Is it because there’s an instant cause and effect happening in my brain, the dopamine hit gamblers get from ringing bells, instant rewards? Or is the appeal of the multiverse more of an existential desire to be somewhere else, somewhere better than here?

• Playing Bach string sonatas in the dark

  By Bill Pearse on September 1, 2022 • ( 13 )

  

  How dark the evening with no moon, the dark before the dawn. I did the early morning candle and music thing, as close as I come to meditating. I had to turn the light on in the bathroom though because… Read More ›

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