Essays
Boulder Weekly’s 6th annual essay issue
Welcome to Boulder Weekly's 6th annual essay Issue. Please use the following links to connect to all the essays in this years publication:
The ones...
In defense of burning books and abalone
Some books should be burned. At least one book should be burned. That book should be Ulysses.
THE WRONG MOLLUSK
I was at the Kapi’olani Farmers...
‘Cold or not, God is present’
I think about the shoes.
I think about the shoes; 60 of them, lined along the east bank of the Danube River in Budapest, Hungary....
That ain’t gospel
Many moons ago, I had a mentor who liked to tell a story about an intern they’d once worked with. So talented was this...
Just a Dawdream
Bar 40 is assaulting my will to live.
I’ve spent two hours clawing away at this brief descending figure in fifths, trying to harmonize and...
The garden
I sat on a wooden stool in my garden one mid-September evening enraptured by an orchestra of crickets. They sounded louder this year, like...
A year in three tracks
“A letter to my younger self” (Ambar Lucid)She enters with just the bright, plucky guitar and when she leaves, she does the same—but in...
A masochist’s love letter
I love telling the story of my wisdom teeth. Anytime someone mentions a tooth extraction or dentistry mishap, I weasel my experience into the ring...
2021 in the rear-view
The space-time continuum seemed to warp this past year, contracting and elongating: While the post-election, pre-insurrection days when election truthers seemed crazy but not...
The hidden path
I called a good friend heartless this year. Who have I become?
I’ve always prided myself on being a rational, reasonable person. I don’t offend...
A Deadhead Cyclist pandemic
It’s often said that “every cloud has a silver lining.” This ubiquitous expression is typically rolled out in the spirit of putting a positive...
Stones of remembrance
The side table drawer in my grandparent’s Arizona living room was always full of playing cards. There was the deck with Van Gogh’s self-portrait,...
