Author Archives: jillbpearlman

October Blues (and other shades)

October’s precision.  Everything under the sun is sharp, preening with the ethic of freshly waxed cars, buffed and shined.  It is as nails made brilliant, as hard bright vernis.  Brushed wire.  It is shadow or it is not.  It is … Continue reading

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The God-Emperor

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Ground Under our Feet?

We live between four walls, they are temporary, fragile, often cheap, sometimes made of scythed corn stalks.  They have been speared into the ground for the Jewish holiday of Sukkot, they won’t hold for long, their very nature is impermanence.  … Continue reading

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Storm King (Art in the Time of Covid)

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Turn, Turn, September’s Turn

Already these crystalline days.  Already the air moving in its own way, letting sun and warmth shout at mid-day, then fall silent.  Already sound of the sea in the crowns of trees.   Already baskets full with the harvest.  Already … Continue reading

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The Insect Chorus

There are those who hate cicadas as they hate the summer sun. I myself love both.  The haters hear cacaphony, noise, intrusion. They hear one solid tone – abrasive – not noticing how the insect chorus of crickets and cicada … Continue reading

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Strange Rerun: the American Vacation

The unexpected rarely rears its head in a life ordered by Zoom.   Spontaneity has become collateral damage.   Usually I get my share of happenstance while traveling.  But traveling is so reduced this summer; possibilities for goofing off and … Continue reading

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What Augurs, August?

I always feel trapped by August, its thick cluster of vowels.  Clotted.  Lugubrious, made for a lazy tongue.  Made for  limbs given up to the sun.  If it were a kitchen sauce, it would need to be thinned.  If there … Continue reading

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covid-19, summer-20

—after Inger Christensen Covid exists.  Covid-19 exists, summer-20 exists.  High noon exists.  Heat exists.  Water in rivers, in seas, in showers, from fire hydrants exists.  Coves exist.  Hidden lanes of purple hydrangea exist.  Overturned bones of kayaks.  Smoothness of stones, … Continue reading

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Of Oysters, the 4th and the Surreality of it all

Prompt: Tie together the Fourth of July, garbage day and a sense of the possibility of renewal.   Make it spontaneous, so it doesn’t seem that the images preceded the prompt.  Don’t dwell too deeply on recent observations that  came … Continue reading

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