Category Archives: Uncategorized

With barely a whisper, the cicadas

Posted on September 26, 2021 by jillbpearlman

With barely a whisper the cicadasbid adieu and disappear  last week, we were drowning in tomatoesfringing with scissors the basilstirred by their rising symphony like rowdy children they were heard but not seenthe electric body, the buzz on the ear’s horizon … Continue reading →

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Games of Shadow and Being

Posted on September 19, 2021 by jillbpearlman

I am sitting deep in a garden after the sun has moved on; surrounded by trees thick with leaves, I feel like I’m in a well of grass.  The atmosphere is swimming with filtered light, blue green, yellow green.  The … Continue reading →

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That Crystalline 9/11 Sky

Posted on September 12, 2021 by jillbpearlman

People have fixated on the New York sky of 9/11, as if such a perfect, crystalline sky could not have produced such horror.  I love that September blue that I might find in the Mediterranean or faraway islands: deep and … Continue reading →

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The Closing Rituals of Summer

Posted on September 5, 2021 by jillbpearlman

We did it, we celebrated summer, in spite of it all.  We fulfilled the ritual, as we had to; the body needs its sense of itself, to immerse in water and shifting light and in joy.  It needs to entertain … Continue reading →

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The Volatile, Mutable Moods of Summer

Posted on August 22, 2021 by jillbpearlman

To be hot and uncomfortable; to be cool, a slight shiver from the shower, body meets air with friction.   To feel free, unfettered, released from questions that seem to dissolve themselves; to find those questions pulling down your head.  … Continue reading →

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Wars, Metaphor, Headless in Red

Posted on August 15, 2021 by jillbpearlman

We’ve been here before, when a swath of color — a flawless blue sky, a ribbon-smooth sea  — rides alongside an event of horror.   Both in immediacy and memory, the high sapphire sky of September 11 marked and continue … Continue reading →

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The Thinginess of Summer

Posted on August 1, 2021 by jillbpearlman

An August Sunday in the city —  empty, empty, empty.  The streets are clearer, blacker, more asphalty, an open stage, an asphalt canvas.  Things, so subsurvient to people, step up their presence and shine. The shopping bag is always heavier … Continue reading →

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A Flâneur Surveys the Damage

Posted on July 25, 2021 by jillbpearlman

How does the flâneur come back to her city after a war is over, after a breakup, an illness, a chasm, a separation of any sort?  When I’m walking my little city (really more of a village), I find that … Continue reading →

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Santa Fe on Thinner Oxygen

Posted on July 11, 2021 by jillbpearlman

How rare to travel as an amateur or emigrant, so ignorant of a well-trod place that you let the place’s magic play with your “free gaze.”   I, Rhode Islander, arrive with little knowledge of New Mexico.  D.H. Lawrence, Georgia … Continue reading →

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The Fruited, Tuffed Red, White & Blue

Posted on July 4, 2021 by jillbpearlman

Happy Birthday, Red, White and Blue, our fragile young democracy. Young because all the people were given voting rights only with the Civil Rights movements of the ’60s, fragile because those rights to vote are being eroded by forces at … Continue reading →

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