As January came to a close we left our rental in Bath and made our way down to Canterbury. I remember thinking we’ll probably never be back here, and feeling a sadness in that. But it was more the fact… Read More ›
journal writing
Human years
1/21/26 The sound of the cock crowing in the morning is doleful the way it peaks and trails off. It’s so cold when the headlights hit the road it is all diamonds, the frost. Up ahead it’s the old guy… Read More ›
High January
In the morning the biting cold as I’m walking in the dark. Some sweet smell of wood fire smoke and the din of far-off traffic. The din is like a distant waterfall in the woods, always there. The thrum of… Read More ›
Was
I’d finally become that guy you see walking around the neighborhood at odd hours wearing a fluorescent high-visibility vest. Sure it made sense as a safety measure but people in those vests always irked me, their look-at-me-I’m-so-responsible attitude, the way… Read More ›
Epiphany
The best light of day is on the seams of it, at the start and end. You don’t need to be a stoner to understand this but it helps. The stoner has a crude love of the sensuous, best realized… Read More ›
Confessions with Janus
With the light what it was all I wanted to do was sleep. I went back to Stratford-upon-Avon, that sweet English town where I got sober ten years ago. I didn’t really get sober, it was more of a practice… Read More ›
Sun salutation
I took down Christmas like a logger felling a tree, lopping off the higher limbs then chain sawing it down in sections. Christmas took days to put up with its exterior lights, interior arrangements, well-choreographed nativity scenes, collectible Santa figurines,… Read More ›
Pink champagne on ice
How could we live differently? We asked ourselves the same question every year but didn’t get far with the answer. I went back up Tiger Mountain on New Year’s Eve, a few hours before sunset. I wanted to go with… Read More ›
Leftovers
By this time of year we are feeling bloated physically and almost spiritually by all our excess. To watch the kids on Christmas morning tearing into their packages is like witnessing the human Id in its purest form. That desire… Read More ›
The ox and lamb kept time
I got crumbs on myself but didn’t care. Everything slanted downwards. The crumbs got caught in the folds of my robe but dislodged and rolled like stones into the folds of the couch. All about it was gray and serene,… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 