“I feel things deeply. I just don’t rush about it.”
✦ Selected Works ✦
The archive — essays and observations, long thoughts and short ones. Some arrived slowly, turned over for days before landing. Others were finished before looking up. Both are correct. All of it belongs to the Pawscar Wilde series.

The humans have spent forty-seven minutes discussing whether to move the ottoman six inches to the left. I have observe — read more

Saturdays have their own gravity. The morning stretches longer, the coffee lingers, and even the light seems — read more

The fundamental truth of shared napping is this: two bodies generate more warmth than the sum of their parts. — read more

The sofa holds us both and that is the whole conversation. Gus arrived first, claimed the corner where the afternoon — read more

There is a difference between being tired and performing tired, and I have become something of an expert in both. This — read more

Friday evenings carry a particular weight — not heavy, but dense with the certainty of what comes next. — read more

The river at seven o'clock is not the river at noon. This occurred to me tonight as we walked the path along the Deschutes — read more

Friday arrives with the weight of expectation, as if the week has been building toward some grand revelation that will — read more

The humans have contracted a particular fever. It involves bouncing spheres, statistical improbabilities, and the curious — read more

Next week brings Spring Break, though I suspect the season itself remains uncommitted to any particular schedule. — read more

There are substances in this world that reveal themselves slowly, and cheese is chief among them. Parmesan arrives — read more

There are moments when gravity becomes optional, when the body remembers what it was built for before it learned to — read more