Crow wings beat hard to keep themselves up They hop, squawk, strut Never once complain. We call them death: Their eyes the color of space Cold, dark, the wisdom of the infinite confined to a frame. Maybe there’s no warmth… Read More ›
writing
Your web is a trap
I’ve compared writers to spiders before: I like that the words rhyme and they have unusual things in common. Both generally hide in the corners waiting, watching. We build fantastic traps to catch our prey, then slowly suck the life… Read More ›
The nature of theme
Theme doesn’t show up on your porch and knock. It appears over time as a pattern of clues emerge. That’s because the human brain thinks in metaphor, in dreams. Theme is the same fleeting figure in waking life. You can’t… Read More ›
The tip of your tongue
Art is just around the corner, just outside the edge of this song that’s on, now. Art is your nature, a prick of light on the skin of the dark that leads you somewhere warmer. Follow that.
When slice-of-life doesn’t cut it anymore
Eyes closed, on my back, losing touch with my position in space. Voices passing outside the door, in the hall. Someone pushing a cart. Someone running water. Can’t feel my hands, can’t move my feet. Mind is awake. I can… Read More ›
A wish for the year 2017
You have a restaurant. The restaurant is born out of your desire to share your favorite recipes, create a place for people to feel a certain way. Whether or not you know it, you’ve got a brand. There are things… Read More ›
Writing, building
Writers need to be editors but the reverse is not true. What you write won’t make it to a real editor unless you’ve edited it first. Toggling between writing and editing requires both parts of the brain: the mystical part,… Read More ›
No Gift Should Go Unthanked
The book is on my chest face-down like a dead bird, a lowercase W, a child’s sketch. The picture of the author on the back, a UPC code only computers can read. A postage stamp I used as a bookmark… Read More ›
Killing Time, Making Time, Wasting Time
I don’t know what it’s “about.” That’s what people want to know when you say you’ve written something, that’s the first question. Is it published, what’s it about? I don’t make time for a pipeline, for blog posts. I spin… Read More ›
It’s time to go
I waited for the bus uptown to get my teeth cleaned, and realized I have to do more with my life than project manage drive thru sign installations. Good money does not a good life make. I sat in the… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 