William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose.
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Recent Posts
- The weight that won’t shake February 13, 2019
- Nowhere, slow February 9, 2019
- Man, 48, transmogrifies to Indian salmon pictograph on Cougar Mountain February 7, 2019
- The complicated way you express your love February 2, 2019
- This time on earth January 30, 2019
People’s Poet
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Lost in the clouds
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THIS WAS UNCALLED FOR
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Tag Archives: Portland
Wilhelm’s mausoleom
I stopped by the dry cleaners, then the car wash — vacuumed out the pollen, the cottonwood, pine needles and dandruff, the nail clippings and dirt, then gathered wood to make a fire later, shook off the spiders from the … Continue reading
Posted in death, Memoir, musings, prose, writing
Tagged Brian Eno, creative nonfiction, Nicolai Astrup, Portland, sentiment, short form, stream-of-consciousness, William Pearse writer
18 Comments
The god of only children
For some reason when I’m in Portland I feel like I can be more myself, maybe because no one knows me here. I wake and walk down César Chávez to the Starbucks in the cool, marine air. And remember the … Continue reading
Posted in death, prose, travel, writing
Tagged loss, Memorial Day, mid-life crisis, nostalgia, Portland, sentiment, William Pearse writer
18 Comments
Moss-petting in Portland (March, ’18)
Signs for deaf children, hand-painted Volvo’s, driving into Portland on a Friday night. By morning the rain had brought down the cherry blossom blooms like confetti, and the children across the street were young enough they could walk on walls … Continue reading
Discreet Music | January 14 (Portland, OR)
The funny thing about ambient music is, I can play it over and over again, and never really notice if it’s the same song. And then, there are times I’ll recognize the artist and feel sophisticated, like when I’m seeing … Continue reading
Posted in Memoir, music
Tagged ambient music, Discreet Music, humor, journal writing, Portland, postaday, Powells bookstore, William Pearse writer
13 Comments
“A lifetime in three days”
All is quiet on Independence Day, oddly. In my hammock with a book, leaves scitter across the sports court and could be the dog, but she’s inside. Pre-fall, even now. No need for sunscreen, there’s a thin band of clouds … Continue reading
As several disturbances head our way
I looked up and my family was gone, lost in the folds of Powell’s bookstore, Portland, the litmosphere they call it, and I wandered the displays sniffing cakes of handmade soaps, glassware designed for gluten-free beer, branded. All the Portlanders … Continue reading
Posted in humor, travel, writing
Tagged angels share, creative nonfiction, disassociation, drinking, Hemingway, hippies, humor, litmosphere, Memoir, mid-life crisis, parenting, PCT, Portland, Timberline Lodge, William Pearse writer
46 Comments