I took a bet I’d like this whole project management thing. I liked the idea of bringing order to chaos, helping people think things through, and getting things done. When I studied project management in the classroom it all made… Read More ›
postaday
Buckets of Rain
I got into Bob Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks in high school while riding in the back of Mark’s Mustang, on the way to New Hope, Pennsylvania. The car was fast, and we hugged the twists and turns along the Delaware… Read More ›
Leave the window cracked
Each day I post something here, there’s the possibility it will carry across the world. Sometimes it feels like I’m shaking a snow globe and holding it for a few moments, for passersby to stop and look at. When you… Read More ›
WordPress Daily Prompt: All About Me
Explain why you chose your blog’s title and what it means to you. Pinklightsabre is a silly name I thought of years ago: Anthony and I had a running list of names for punk bands we imagined we would start,… Read More ›
The feeling of a house with everything taken out
I can’t help getting rattled by the constant disarray of our house: the kids, the cats, the dog, the yard. Everywhere, something is off. But then I remember the look of our house in West Seattle when we moved out:… Read More ›
Long hand
I wrote longhand over the weekend, on the bus down to Portland and back. Since the bus had Wi-Fi, I thought I’d be clever and post a blog on it. But I chose my paper notebook instead. My best ideas… Read More ›
Death is not the end
It’s the only dream I’ve had where I actually die in it. Normally, if I’m being chased by something or I’m falling, I wake up before it’s over, or I find a way out. But this dream ended with the… Read More ›
Superstition: On MacBeth, the Tarot, and the Tale of the Lucky Leprechaun
I am superstitious and proud. I think people come by superstition because they want to have control over things they really don’t. They want to believe they can control their own fate, through faith and ritual. In Shakespeare’s play, MacBeth… Read More ›
Sentiment, sediment, and what’s at the bottom of it
Alright, so I am sentimental about people, places and things. I keep old notes in my coats, a mish-mash of crap in my sock drawer, and I’ve been known to haunt dead-end streets where I necked with a girl. I… Read More ›
On Memoirs, Getting Lost in the Labyrinth
I’ve gone back to A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man for inspiration, this year. As I suffer through the exfoliation phase of writing and the need to purge my life through memoirs, I hope it will lead… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 