Tag Archives: Brian Eno

An examination of spirit and self, told from beneath a sheet

When Dawn leaves town, Charlotte sleeps with me in our bed. Friday night, and she complained about the Brian Eno music, calling it spooky. So I carried the remains of that record with me up Cougar Mountain the next morning, … Continue reading

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‘Undead’

On the first day of summer I took my morning walk beneath a marine layer of clouds. The cool onshore flow was back, making the trees swish. The blackberry vines were starting to bud out with their green, knobby fists … Continue reading

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Wilhelm’s mausoleom

I stopped by the dry cleaners, then the car wash — vacuumed out the pollen, the cottonwood, pine needles and dandruff, the nail clippings and dirt, then gathered wood to make a fire later, shook off the spiders from the … Continue reading

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One Saturday in May, with ’77 million paintings’ playing

The cottonwood started falling and now it feels like we’re in a snow globe that won’t stop. Charlotte and I went to the aquarium and looked at the octopus, its sheep eyes, the valves where the cheeks would be, opening … Continue reading

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Trying on masks | Field notes from the Pacific Coast

It’s almost over! This is a series of posts I started in late May and have published daily for 35 days now. It’s inspired by a three-day solo trek on the Washington coast, with side-story memoir scenes wrapped by a few … Continue reading

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“One more red nightmare”

Donnie said he forwarded my email to Fripp and would let me know if he heard back. I sent that to Loren, because I wasn’t sure I’d ever get an email like that again, that said “I forwarded your message … Continue reading

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Not yet remembered

I sometimes wear Eberhard’s Stetson to get Charlotte at school, and stand outside with the other parents waiting for her to appear in the doorway — and when she does and sees me with the hat, she turns pink and walks ahead … Continue reading

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