This is a series of posts I started in late May and plan to continue for 40 days, with a goal of hitting 50,000 words by July 5 (now +25% complete!). It’s inspired by a three-day solo trek on the… Read More ›

Pittsburgh
Winter’s playground is closed for the season
If you were to look back through a hole at your life, if it were like a kaleidoscope when held to the light, the days would fold in on themselves and combine, and collapse to form a frame called “your… Read More ›
Factotum (for Peel)
After college I moved to the beach and got a job delivering pizzas; my friend Peel moved to New York and dabbled in homelessness and then on to Portland, where he fell in with a group of shoplifters who returned… Read More ›
The lines we used to find one another
I went for the toilet but because it was dark I didn’t see the seat was up and nearly fell in. Mike and Kim renovated their house since I’d lived there, so it was now easier to get to the… Read More ›
Look what phase the moon got into
I still have the handwritten note from the guy who refinished our hardwoods when we moved into this house in 2010: how to clean them, the right ratio of vinegar to water, don’t over-wet the mop. His name was Roy… 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 ›
The importance of turning back
In the first draft of my memoir, which I left behind in the States because it has a bad energy objects sometimes can, I began with a scene from 1993 that traces the start of my career to its source,… Read More ›
Carson Street slideshow, 1994
We are in Michael’s boyfriend’s apartment, getting into Michael’s boyfriend’s bag. Michael is gay before anyone else in Pittsburgh. He wears scarves and earrings with hoops and looks beautiful but doesn’t act like a priss. People talk behind his back… Read More ›
The Sponge Factory Diary
Pepé told us about The Sponge Factory before we moved to Philadelphia. I made the call, and we met the building manager at the door. She had a parrot on her shoulder, and wasn’t wearing a bra. We got in… Read More ›
It’s better to be sweet than to be bright
Roxy’s not that smart. Her name is Roxy, she’s a cat, sister to the other one. She stands in the light of the laundry room while I feed Ruby, quarter to six. She stands there looking at me while the… Read More ›