No one yet has said “Stop!”, so I’ll keep messing with these audio files. This one is from awhile ago, for my Dad, Edward Michael McDonnell, Jr. who passed. He grew up here in the Front Range in the twenties and thirties, slipping off to join the Navy to fight in the South Pacific. He … [read more]
This is from 2014. The grainy photo is from 1973 or so, courtesy Rich Compton.
-for Kent and Jane I watch Lucinda my dragon year sister older now like me generous around the middle with glasses too fearless and fearful on stage still sharing her tears. We have a choice: to show up or not. The house lights darken and the spots focus on us in any case. This old … [read more]
Raw this morning in these hours before dawn. raw like an open bleeding wound. It’s dark and cold and I can feel everything. The streets are deserted nothing to distract me no one to be with or charm vulnerable and in pain but alive the future is an empty boulevard running east, running west, north … [read more]
I am trying something new. Sandy suggested I should read some of my writing aloud and put it up onto O’Keeffe Woodworks as an audio file. You’ll need to click the title to get the audio controls. Here is my first attempt. Let me know what you think. -Geoff
In a memoir, Anthony Bourdain shared with us that he recalls precisely the moment he decided to become a chef. While working in the kitchen of a middle-of-the-road seafood joint in Provincetown, Massachusetts, serving a large wedding party of which the bride was good friends with Tony’s chef-boss, he and his scullery mates peered out … [read more]