Essays
Naked Belief
My favorite professors were the ones who’d set me up a space heater before I arrived. Even in the early fall months, just as...
7th annual essay issue
Every year around this time, Boulder Weekly publishes a collection of essays written by the people — editors, publishers, contributors — who put out...
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...
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...
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...
‘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....
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...
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...
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...
The bikini
I remember the first time I felt fat. I was 7 years old, and so excited to spend the day at the pool. I...
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,...
A long ugly story
Sometime in the fall of 1979 I got a phone call from a friend of my older brother. He wanted to know if I...
