“Discreet Music” is the name of a Brian Eno album from 1975 and also a new blog series I’m running through January, prompted by a journal-writing theme I started in Germany over the holidays. It’s inspired by the David Sedaris… Read More ›
William Pearse writer
Last reflection before bed
The essence of the day was lost to the holes and spaces where memory goes, the leaks and gaps that take what you don’t see. And sad to think, a whole life can pass by like that, unseen. Photo from… Read More ›
Song for company reorganizations in F sharp
Now there’s a different feel to the company for those who have been there long enough and know what to expect: It’s half-way through the fiscal cycle so they know how they’ve done the first half and can predict the… Read More ›
A piece of Richard Brautigan (for Loren)
The cat’s eyes have gone cloudy, or maybe it’s just my imagination. She spends most nights in the garage, which would explain the need for a thicker coat. And in the morning she pulls a pipe cleaner out of the… Read More ›
Dark morning walk
Now the dark you thought would abate just hangs on (or lightens, depending on your point of view) still it’s hard to change from what window you see the world, that view.
Discreet Music | January 8, 2018
Came home from work and washed my hands, poured the last of the white wine. The January bugs are back, gray and plain, looking in at me sideways. A flock of birds like playing cards shuffled, then rearranged. There must… Read More ›
Discreet Music | January 7, 2018
The dog’s hind leg shifts like a coal in the wood stove, stirs, then settles in. It’s Sunday and I vowed to cook, read, build a fire and that’s it. Spent half of it online reading consumer reviews of cars… Read More ›
Discreet Music | January 5, 2018
It’s been a busy week, which is strange for the first week of the year. But I’m ending a project we started in September, with about a dozen CEO’s from companies around the world meeting over a few days. C-level… Read More ›
Painting lessons for pessimists
The future is a sham of hope and fear- based paints that can’t advance beyond the crudeness of our own imagination.
Morning prayer
The grizzled look of a lawn covered in frost and all the tiny diamonds there, a Morse code for sight. Photo credit, Loren Chasse.
Bill Pearse 