Old, half-timbered houses with uneven beams buckling and bent into one another like two drunks steadying themselves. Everything on its side, lead pipe handrails caught in their footings, ivy-choked trees. Pale morning birdsong, footpaths leading down the valley ending in… Read More ›
Wet snow tangled in the hair of the grass outside of London, topping the cars like confetti. Going back to a Sunday a month ago in Galway, a neighborhood ten minutes outside of town called Salthill, that day we started… Read More ›
We debated what to do with the uneaten ham. It was impractical to stuff it in the car with all our things, tacky to leave it behind for the owners, wasteful to throw it out, and so I climbed the… Read More ›
Christmas in West Cork: Cork, a town on the southern coast of Ireland, “West Cork” the territory to the left of it loosely defined by small towns with names like Skibbereen, which we visit just so we can say we… Read More ›
Happy holidays from Bill, Dawn, Lily and Charlotte…I will be out of the office from 16 December 15, returning some time in January. Until then, if this is an emergency please turn off your computer, go outside, and look deep… Read More ›
Monday, a down day. The waves crashing against the rocks in the painting don’t move me because a.) I doubt they were real rocks the painter really saw, and b.) doubted he/she had the knack to really paint. It’s like… Read More ›
Running from our flat to the oldest bar in Ireland in the rain because you have to do that at least once in life, and it’s so close I make it there without losing my breath and find the same… Read More ›
Saturday, all of us on damp streets swaddled against the wind coming off Dublin Bay, wandering northeast from our flat past large churches, intersections where the asphalt’s painted LOOK RIGHT, LOOK LEFT, and the people have complexions that remind me… Read More ›
Friday: I regarded my socks one last time before dropping them in the trash as if they were something special, some memory tied to them that was important but better left behind. Cut my hand on something packing up the car… Read More ›
Arrived in the dark last night at a castle near a port town on the southwest coast of Scotland, woke to the sound of an owl stirring by our window so close it sounded like it could be in the… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 