It’s sad when an artist you loved so much is still around when you sometimes wish they weren’t. But it’s easier to blame the creep you fell in love with than to take responsibility for your own decisions.
Morrissey
November spawned a monster
Rainy Thursday morning, Thanksgiving at the lake, all to myself. The level’s come up to the rocks, nowhere to sit. Ginger has a private crap somewhere in the trees. The rain makes a pattern across the surface, little black dots rippling,… Read More ›
Deep impression by a shallow pool
Gray smear of a Saturday too wet for yard work, it still seems everyone’s gone since the Fourth. You can hear a car engine coming a way’s away, they cut arcs around the bend and go in and out like… Read More ›
‘Is evil something you are, or something you do?’
We’ve hung a roadside atlas of Scotland over the door in our flat, draped there like something we shot and dragged in for drying — it looks so big on paper, but you can see much of it we’ve covered… Read More ›
Meet me at the cemetry gates
We dropped the kids off for their first day of German school, their first class French — French taught in German — and I walked to the cemetery by the Realschule, where we’ve started our third week of German classes,… Read More ›
“Helpless”
I don’t think my parents liked me having the bedroom door closed when Marie was over, but it wasn’t tightly enforced. We closed the door and smiled at each other: there wasn’t anywhere else to sit in my room, just… Read More ›
The Golden Hour of Knowing, The Witchcraft of Writing
I repositioned a photo of my dad in a mirror over the fireplace in our den. It’s odd because I look at the mirror and see myself, and also see him in the corner, and I look at both of… Read More ›
Quality, Popularity
These two don’t always go together. Businesses that grow from a quality product struggle to maintain it once they get big; they pay consultants to help them remember what it was like to be small. Morrissey said, “Fame, fame, fatal… Read More ›
In a river the color of lead
We were flying above the Atlantic when the Newtown school shootings occurred, headed to Germany. Eberhard asked if I heard about it and I hadn’t, so he broke the news to us. Various Europeans we met over the next couple… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 