For 20 days I took an all-cold shower after yoga every morning and today, on Thanksgiving, having the house all to myself, I grunted and snorted and really hammed it up in the shower, finishing things off with a stiff… Read More ›
Memoir
A film of light
The candle starts off bright but soon goes dim. And that’s OK because the light from outside comes on as the candle’s gone down. The two match each other’s dimness. I sit in the dark with my blanket and the… Read More ›
Gold teeth and a curse for this town
You park by the side of the road by the apartments, the place you grew up. A sign says residents only but you feel a sense of entitlement being here. You imagine the conversation you will have if someone stops… Read More ›
The real color of fake blood
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 ›
Let go into the mystery
The dark pockets of mom’s old house were something to see. It could be depressing too, how the leaning walls closed in on you. But for a Sunday morning in late August with the rain coming down I was glad… Read More ›
Did you get your disconnection notice?
Funny how it often feels good to disconnect, but then we long to feel connected again. And maybe that’s the combination I’ve found this week reconnecting with my mom and our home here in Germany. Lily went away for a… Read More ›
An apple no worm had found
We took the 14 toward Backnang, past the place I bought a used hatchback one time with Eberhard, Sulzbach an der Merr. And I could still remember the turnoff where Dawn and I took the car for a test drive… Read More ›
Song for leavin’
It is remarkable to think, the braids of fate that led me here. Up these Roman steps, past prehistoric geckos padding stone. A life of constellations but so often we wander through the dark and can’t connect the dots. Perhaps… Read More ›
New forms of release
The warm crackle of the power lines above the cornfields, up the himmelsleiter to the vineyards. Unscrewing a tight grape from its cluster, spitting the seeds out on the grass. Bathing myself in this new form of decadence sans alcohol,… Read More ›
Silent lucidity
The sun fell on the hills again, the same way it falls every night. Falling off myself, a stranger passing through another town, another rented room. Taking stock of all we’ve taken in and everywhere we’ve been. We are in… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 