At times the rain could be maddening, the repetition. And it got so dark you had to watch your mood or you could slip under. I thought back to our time in Salthill, outside of Galway, when our family came… Read More ›
writing process
Trick-or-treating in the Scottish Highlands
The first thing you need to know about trick-or-treating in Scotland is it’s not called trick-or-treating, it’s called guising. And you don’t get candy for free just by waving your bags out, you have to sing a tune or recite… Read More ›
An examination of spirit and self, told from beneath a sheet
When Dawn leaves town, Charlotte sleeps with me in our bed. Friday night, and she complained about the Brian Eno music, calling it spooky. So I carried the remains of that record with me up Cougar Mountain the next morning,… Read More ›
Negative space
I had to drink out of the side of my mouth to get the taste of glue out since half of me was still numb. I went back to the dentist, Dr. Chan, the first time in years, with lots… Read More ›
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 ›
Life Before Fabric Softener (a memoir) | 2
The second entry in my to-be written memoir (v.3)—that starts 20 years ago as I was making plans to move to the south of France, looking after my parents’ house in Pennsylvania. First chapter is here. December, 1997 New Tripoli,… Read More ›
‘Do androids dream of electric sheep?’
In the den at night with the flue to the gas fire open it’s so drafty it feels like we’re outside, and Dawn and I wrap ourselves in blankets, play vinyl, and it’s a pain to get up and have… Read More ›
God from the machine
Muted colors on the drive in to work, highs in the low 50s. The temporary workers in their fluorescent body suits setting up the construction site for the day, wincing in the rain. Me as a temp worker with a… Read More ›
Following false leads down the side streets to identity
Though it would hit 85 in Seattle (the last time for a year) I was sickly, pale and soft, an analogy to a piece of fruit that’s gone bad from the insides. I got off the phone with KLM to… Read More ›
The rat torture scene reveal | 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 (now +25% complete!). It’s inspired by a three-day solo trek on the… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 