The Barbie dolls are on their backs, arms in supplication, dead bugs frozen in the position of a child’s imagination before it moves on to something else. Me and the dolls and our glassy eyes, plastic smiles, a battlefield of… Read More ›
yoga
The sound of the rain
I sit by an open window in the dark with the rain, waiting for a picture of a sound, a spark. But the rain is just a sheet of paper crumbling over and over again, not an ocean tide or… Read More ›
Hold the pose
I’m celebrating 6o days of blogging today. Any monkey can do it, but it takes a special kind of monkey to be so persistent. In Yoga, sometimes we hold a balancing pose for half a minute or so. It’s intended… Read More ›
Rolfing the Theme
It’s hard to know the theme before you start writing. For me, theme emerges over time. It’s as though you know the theme sub-consciously, but need to go through an exercise requiring time and effort before it’s fully realized. I… Read More ›
She Gives Shavasna
I had a friend who said he’d like to try Yoga but was afraid he’d do something stupid in class, like fart. I do think about that from time to time, but it hasn’t happened to me yet. At its… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 