Tag Archives: sentimentality

They know it’s time to go

After 89 days without a good rain it was definitive it would come back Sunday. We were gearing up for the first fire of the season, a stew, some red wine, music. We’d move the patio furniture to the garage, … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, musings | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

First light for August

The plane resembled a bird in the sky, reflecting back in the lake. There were a few on the dock fishing, spread out to give each other space. They were all having their moments with the lake, the morning light. … Continue reading

Posted in prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 20 Comments

The black Opal kombi connection | Field notes from the Pacific coast

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 (#33 post). It’s inspired by a three-day solo trek on the Washington … Continue reading

Posted in identity, parenting, travel | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Fugue in G Minor (“keep it like a secret”)

It was hard to understand my relationship with that CD. I remember the day I bought it in Portland my last visit to Loren before Germany. I knew the record but felt I should own it on CD, I only … Continue reading

Posted in travel, music, writing, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 19 Comments

Fireflies trapped in a jar, the days, prose

Some of the days flew by so fast, others you could trap in a jar. They were on the internet or in your computer on a spinning carousel, going back as far as you could right up to the present. … Continue reading

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The Larry Dugan complex

There were probably a dozen boys packed into that air-conditioned room at Kyle Gardo’s house in the early ’80s, the first time I saw porn, a lot of hair onscreen and squishing sounds, all of us rapt and speechless; it … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 25 Comments

‘How little remains’ (on youth, memory, memoir)

I went back to the old apartment. The old apartment was best going back to alone. I tried taking my kids there or Dawn, but to them it was just an old apartment. To me, there was so much more. … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 26 Comments