Pawscar Wilde
“I feel things deeply. I just don’t rush about it.”
✦ Selected Works ✦
From the Chaise Longue
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 Force and Other Failed Experiments
Monday arrives with its usual collection of promises, most of them lies. The morning holds that particular clarity that… — read more
Mind Control and the Breakfast Question
The Force flows strongest through those who understand the true path leads directly to the cookie jar. Today I shall… — read more
The Force, Breakfast Cookies, and Moral Relativism
Dad claims the Force works only for noble purposes. This morning I shall test whether securing a second breakfast cookie… — read more
The Force, Regrettably, Remains Indifferent to Basset Hounds
The Force flows through the cookie jar and I am one with the Force and the Force is with me and the Force guides my paws… — read more
The Volume of Friendship
There is a particular quality to Sunday morning that depends entirely on who occupies the space. The light still enters… — read more
Some Guests Simply Require All the Oxygen
There are people who fill silence and people who find it. Mom’s friend arrived Friday with opinions about everything and… — read more
The Unbearable Lightness of Houseguests
The house has been full of conversation that does not pause for breath. I have retreated to the studio, where silence… — read more
The Silence After Company Leaves Is Its Own Conversation
Mom’s friend departed an hour ago. The house exhales slowly — conversations that filled every corner now reduced to the… — read more
The Architecture of Monday Afternoons
There is a particular quality to Monday air — not quite weekend, not yet fully week. It carries a different weight… — read more
The Warmth Lingers; The Week Resumes
The weekend departed without ceremony. Now there is only the sofa, the afternoon light through glass, and the particular… — read more
On the Brief Madness of Movement
The zoomies hit at 12:58 on a Monday and suddenly I am seventeen different dogs at once. The squeaker is airborne. The… — read more
Monday Arrives Like an Uninvited Guest with Sofa Knowledge
The weekend has vanished with the precision of kibble at dinnertime, leaving behind only the faint memory of extra walks… — read more