Tag Archives: meta

Poppy field in a hollow, Whidbey Island

In the early morning before the sun hits the tops of the trees it’s so quiet on the island it’s like the quiet has its own sound that expands to surround you. Even the clouds appear fixed over the water, … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, musings, prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 20 Comments

Bluetooth speaker inside rusted copper resonating bowl

Lily and I moved to opposite corners of the hot tub. Because it’s outside and we live in the Pacific Northwest, the underside of the cover attracts slugs and undesirable life. I’ve started using bromine tabs indiscriminately, I just dump … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, musings, parenting, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

First listen of the White Album

I realized Loren had my copy of The Corrections I’d given him in the early 2000’s: he said it was that book that made him realize what kind of writing he does and does not like, and that one was … Continue reading

Posted in musings, parenting, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Just like the landscape

In the way other people’s minds probably do, mine moved along a band of topics in the middle of the night like radio stations or a wheel at the fair, a big arrow that stops and settles. That’s how it … Continue reading

Posted in musings, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

The unknowingness: too many reflections, too much time reflecting

I spent almost two years out of work which was good, but a bit too long. It felt like oversleeping, a self-induced fog. And because I’m a project manager and have to organize things, I think my time out of … Continue reading

Posted in musings, travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 19 Comments

Lost in the Funhouse with Barth: on meta, Brecht, and what’s behind The Fourth Wall

With social media and technology what they are, metafiction has become more a part of our lives than ever: we’re constantly stepping outside the frame to capture ourselves in it, and our story of documenting our life story is as much a story as the story itself. But as we step outside the frame, we’re straddling two worlds and cease to exist fully in either — like tourists on an Alaskan whale-watching cruise with our cameras out trying to catch the breaching whales as proof we were there, we miss the reality just beyond our lens and I wonder, did we really see anything at all? Continue reading

Posted in musings, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

Fortune presents gifts not according to the book

That last Tuesday in Germany I had two Xanax I’d saved from the flight last summer and took one when I got back from the artist Matthias’s house, found our place a shit-storm of packing and bad energy and realized Dawn … Continue reading

Posted in travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments