The Latvian-Scottish hairstylist in the salon across the street from our flat holds my hair up in the mirror, both of us looking at it, and says it’s a disconnected style, which I ask her to define but she can’t… Read More ›
Synchronicity
‘A shadow on the door of a cottage on the shore’
It has the feel of a wet campground, all the smoke and everything damp, watching the Guy Fawkes 5th of November fireworks and bonfire display here in Inverness, the largest festival of its kind in northern Scotland, because I have… Read More ›
Is your religion a cult?
Anthony made fun of me for having plans Friday afternoon to meet with the Mormons at our house. He said why are you doing it, so you can blog about it? That was part-true. They were supposed to be here… Read More ›
Nature, Stirring
The morning light cuts through the trees on the dew-wet grass. The pine boughs are dripping, the ground is stirring: the jerky motion of squirrels digging, leaving scraps. Dawn sees it first: it looks like a dog coming down the… Read More ›
Stranger Than Fiction
The guy who cuts my hair has been reading about Synchronicity, something I had only associated with the band The Police, until yesterday. In his example, a good friend of his has just passed away. He was visiting her in… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 