Tag Archives: inspiration

Leading the witness

Posted on March 24, 2018 by

3/24/18 Pulling into Wenatchee on a Friday night just before dark. The Olive Garden family restaurant, a long time since I’d been to one and longer still before I’ll go back. Charlotte, slap happy / punch drunk on two Cokes, … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, parenting, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Following false leads down the side streets to identity

Posted on October 3, 2017 by

Though it would hit 85 in Seattle (the last time for a year) I was sickly, pale and soft, an analogy to a piece of fruit that’s gone bad from the insides. I got off the phone with KLM to … Continue reading →

Posted in musings, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 26 Comments

“Jimi thing”: last day on Whidbey Island, spring break ’17

Posted on April 17, 2017 by

The last morning I went down to the whale-watching bench to say goodbye and there were no sounds on a Saturday but the birds, a crow clicking on a totem pole, elderly folks shuffling up the sidewalks, bearded construction guys … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, music, musings, parenting | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

The fear to really be | what scares us most, about art

Posted on March 28, 2017 by

It had been many months since I went around the corner from our house to the new development. Why would I?—turning left instead of right, I could go down to the lake. Turning right, and right again, they’d taken out … Continue reading →

Posted in writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 26 Comments

Magnificent return to splendor

Posted on January 13, 2017 by

All the grisly-bearded rooftops in the morning covered with frost, warming up the car. Realizing I’m falling into familiar work patterns, things I used to do in my last job: going out to the car a few minutes before I … Continue reading →

Posted in musings | Tagged , , , , , , , | 24 Comments

A hot bath with David Bowie’s last record

Posted on January 10, 2017 by

At their height the veins in these hands looked like power cords, like ridge lines on the moon pumping blood from the heart to the fingers, swollen blue but now, more summertime worms scarcely seen, dried up, bloodless: there, it … Continue reading →

Posted in poetry | Tagged , , , , , , | 7 Comments

The last of the pulled pork sandwiches

Posted on July 7, 2016 by

There was a time we used to just sit and watch our kids’ swim lessons at the Y and it was cute and sweet but that time has passed, and the last two days I take my laptop and wait … Continue reading →

Posted in musings, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments