I wrote to remember but you could never come close. The writing became a form of reliving, a cheap copy. It was the worst kind of navel gazing writing letters to your future selves. But I would sooner err on… Read More ›
writing
The pearly everlasting
We meet mom’s friend Helga for dinner at the Croatian guy Tony’s new restaurant and sit inside at the best table (“without shadows,” Tony says). It’s called Adriatic cuisine, which I take to mean Mediterranean, though my geography and culinary… Read More ›
Making for a living
And the craftsman tries not to look while the customer eyes his work. But in that moment it’s like they’re at the animal rescue debating should they take one in, give it a home.
The art of make-believe and singing in the shower
The acts of being and pretending are one and the same through an artful delusion of self. That form of delusion is how people with big dreams make them a reality: by not letting reality get in the way.
Song for mid-autumn soothing
I had to turn off my notifications and head to the hills for a few hours. I was glad for the smell of wet leaves and patchwork of brown and yellow on the ground, glad for the sweat in my… Read More ›
Lifetime
There is a space between us and the ones we love and I want to understand why we allow that distance. Or talk about what gets in our way of crossing it.
The long view
Gary came for dinner and we forgot what day it was but remembered again as we listened to him tell the story of that morning in September he went to work at the New York Times building in Manhattan.
18th and Union
I was 25 and alone. I didn’t have a car or plans on the weekends. I got up and made coffee and went out for the day.
The nervous system
In less than a week I ate most of a small ham by myself, oftentimes eating it cold by my computer for breakfast with a hard-boiled egg and coffee.
Days, leaves, light
How the days unfurled unexpected and just hung there in the light.
Bill Pearse 