So you are poor. You are cold, you are hungry, you feel very sorry for yourself. You have four dollars in quarters, and your rent is due. You can buy a jar of peanut butter, but what do you do tomorrow? It is winter; outside it is raining; you feel suddenly alone. Listen; we are … Continue reading For when you are feeling poor
brightness, darkness, lightness, happiness
There’s nothing left to do in my day, the space heater is on and the yellow lamps are burning and my dogs need nothing from me. Outside it’s dusk, the bright fall day turned indistinct and then twilight blue, the damp cold air embracing everything. I ate parsnips and beef cooked in bacon grease and … Continue reading brightness, darkness, lightness, happiness
chocolate covered bacon and the meaning of the wintertime
The dry season ended, all of a sudden, and the sky became dark and wet and the air turned cold and all the leaves fell. At first I was taken aback by all of this, because I hadn’t wanted it to happen. I was feeling like a victim of the seasons, like one of those … Continue reading chocolate covered bacon and the meaning of the wintertime
the enchanted valley and things that do not happen
Hello! You may have read an early draft of this story, about the Duckabush Arson of last year, from a link on a hiking website. This early draft has been posted without my permission, and actually violates my publishing agreement with Amazon, and can get me in a lot of trouble. If you're the one … Continue reading the enchanted valley and things that do not happen
The brief wondrous life of Sonny Riccobono
It was march, and Seamus and I had just started dating. The rain clouds, while still black-grey and flinging down torrents of water, were broken, now, in moments, by patches of glorious, syrupy yellow light- the steamy northwest sun, emerging naked from its long, introspective sauna. Seamus and I decided to go to Olympia for … Continue reading The brief wondrous life of Sonny Riccobono
Summer was cancelled west of the cascade mountains, so we drove east into the desert, to where ponderosa pines stood tall in the yellow sunlight and clear rivers, flat and deep, wound their way through the soft ground. But thunderstorms followed us over the hills, and we camped in a torrential downpour the first night, … Continue reading backpacking
s u n d a y
Overcast, warm unless the air is moving, reading Anne Carson, I went running in the forest, in my old running shoes, that need replacing, on the narrow dirt path, squishy with mud. Finn and I, and the small dogs, like squirrels, out of place, which would wink out of existence, immediately, if western civilization were … Continue reading s u n d a y
so. fucking. beautiful.
I hadn't read Davka's blog in so long. I had forgotten. "The horses and their riders want love. The lizards want to eat. The snakes want sun. The hawks want to see. I am all of these." Read it.
s p r i n g t i m e
Cherry blossoms are beautiful, my heart is ripped wide open. Everything goes back to beginnings, like a feedback loop of nostalgia, as if the middle never happened, the day-to-day, the text messages and the humming of electrical appliances. No, it was all explosions of flowers and sleepless, ecstatic mornings, time stopping and then slipping away, … Continue reading s p r i n g t i m e
Where darkness lives
I woke up this morning thinking about my mother. I invoked her, yesterday, by talking about her, and when I woke up this morning she was there, in the room. Her spirit, her energy. My mother exists. It’s hard to believe that something still exists when you do not see it with your own eyes. … Continue reading Where darkness lives
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