Come on in!

I believe we are all in this together. More alike than we are different. Common ground often found in the stories we share and the songs we sing together.

Explore the Rooms

My home is yours. Please come in and explore a room.

  • A Personal Journey

    Mark walking down a road in old-town Seattle, holding a guitar

  • The Brothers Four

    In this room you will find songs and stories about my experiences as a member of The Brothers Four going back to when I first joined the group in 1969. In many ways it’s because of The Brothers Four that I have been able to have a life and career singing songs and telling stories. You may find that reflected here.
    image of The Brothers Four

  • With Mike McCoy

    Mike McCoy and I came to the University of Washington on football scholarships. We became friends and started singing together our freshman year. In this room you'll find songs and stories illuminating some sixty years of sharing the stages of our lives including 30 Dear Partner Letter videos filled with music and memories about our enduring friendship and musical partnership.
    Mark Pearson and Mike McCoy walking with each other on a beach

  • For Pat

    Pat and I have been friends since college and life partners since 1990. In this room you’ll find songs and stories that shine a light our life together. It took a long time for me to realize and give voice to a lifelong challenge I’ve had which is believing I am worthy of loving and being loved. It took someone special to be there through it all. Pat’s that person with me for the long journey and there to greet me when I believe I’m finally home.
    Mark Pearson sitting with a guitar and his wife, Pat

  • For Family & Friends

    For more than 50 years I’ve written songs, letters and stories to and for and about family and friends. This room is a gathering place for many of those songs and stories and letters as well.
    Mark Pearson with family and friends.

  • A Lover's Quarrel with the World

    When someone asked Robert Frost what he wanted on his tombstone his answer was: He Had A Lover's Quarrel With The World. The songs and stories you’ll find in this room are part of my lover’s quarrel with the world including what I call Remembering the Dream, 21 videos sharing songs and stories from the Civil Rights Movement of the 50’s and 60’s and how those songs and those stories connect with and help us understand the times we are living in now.
    Mark sitting on a beach look out over the water

  • For the Next Generation

    It was an article by Ellen Goodman that introduced me to the idea that we start off believing that life is sprint – eventually discovering it’s a marathon – before finally coming to the realization that what life truly is is a relay. The songs and stories that will begin to fill this room reflect on and off of that idea. Songs and stories dedicated to my grandchildren and all of those who come after who will soon be inheritors of the world we will be leaving to them.
    Mark pearson walking on the beach with a child on his shoulders

See What's New

Passing the Hat

When I was starting out I often sang at places where people didn’t pay to hear the music. We simply passed the hat. While it was understood putting something in the hat was never required it was always appreciated. Many passed when the hat was passed. Some put in the change in their pockets. A few would open their billfolds and put in what Tom T. Hall called "back-pocket money". Sometimes someone might simply write a note and put that in the hat.

Making money was far from the heart of what we were doing back then. It was about getting together, about the joy of sharing songs and stories. About being part of a community. Part of something bigger than ourselves. Knowing we were not alone. Getting paid was more an afterthought.

So, after thinking about it, everyone who visits here these days is welcome to freely explore every room. I am truly grateful to everyone who visits, and additionally grateful when someone decides to put something in the hat.

Mark in the woods near his house, smiling holding out a hat