This is the name of a poem I started after 9-11 but never finished. What bothered me most that day was the knowledge that things would never be the same, that no good would come of it. Instead, more violence,… Read More ›
postaday
A face for the homeless
I’ve been writing about the homeless who live on an alleyway by my office, in downtown Seattle. There’s an obvious irony in their existence, cast against the large, corporate office for Starbucks and all the commerce and new real estate… Read More ›
I’d rather be wrong: a short rant on the difference between nihilism and existentialism
It’s late, I’ve had too much beer, and my 23 year-old cousin wants to show me his favorite YouTube video and talk about the meaning of life. The video is by a band called Mr. Bungle: manic, circus music, the… Read More ›
The sun took my eyes and put them on the moon
The face on the moon is a mask, a caricature, a serial killer, no different than mine: it always looks sad, alone, surprised to find itself so far out there on its own.
Washing out the smoke
Spent the back half of the afternoon with a wet campfire, craft beer, and charcoal. Woke up smelling like a barbecued potato chip. Put a wool blanket down over the lawn furniture to soften things up, and enjoyed the crackle… Read More ›
The Waiting Room
Peel died of a heroin overdose in a cheap New York hotel, probably exactly what he wanted. I saved a letter he wrote in 1992, with his careful, shaky verse: instead of my name in the address line on the… Read More ›
Making space for yourself
All the membranes broke out of him, let him write like that, said this. There’s times it makes no sense to make sense of things, just stop thinking and let it be. I made more space inside myself with a pen:… Read More ›
Baseball Bats and Golf Clubs
Like guns, they are tools for sport that can also kill or cripple. In the absence of owning a gun, I’ve thought about keeping a bat or a club by my bed, just in case. But it doesn’t bring me… Read More ›
Why design matters
We are getting down to the wire on constructing a trade show booth at work. The first storm has blown over: approving the design. Of course the design is an emotional thing because the brand is an emotional thing (especially… Read More ›
Shiftwork
I had rug pattern on my face from sleeping under my boss’s desk while she was out of town. I did it to have the experience, thinking it would yield something meaningful (now, a blog post 16 years later). I… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 