I am currently...

...writing, hiking, or busy around the house making music, meals, or muscles* and, therefore, any rumors of my digital hibernation have NOT been greatly exaggerated. Furthermore, I've no plans to fully wake until 2021, although email is being checked and acted upon ASAP.
* I'm admittedly arriving embarrassingly late to the routine exercise party. But I'm here now and I've been having a blast with daily workouts since circa Sept '17. 
...still ashamed at how smooth voting was in my precinct. Every person should enjoy the 2018 voting experience I did.
[Though it's Aug '19 it's NEVER too late (or too early) to prepare for Halloween. Reposting a bit and a blurb from a story I shared in Oct '18.]
...making preparations for a return midnight visit to Stull, Kansas cemetery, Sleepy Hollow of Kansas, gathering place of souls bound to darkness, gateway to Hell.
In Stull, Kansas—the Hellmouth—bearing witness. Took great care to remain unseen. I observed the most peculiar of occult activities. Crazed college-aged Observants threw empty glass bottles against stone walls and graveyard markers and shouted, "For what shatters when thrown against the void!"

​Not a single bottle broke.

⛧ Excerpted from the journal of H. T. Ramsey, dated Sunday 23-Sept-1979 (autumnal equinox)

Moniker and man

[MONIKER] Silhouette reminiscent of SHAW's unreasonable man admiring the acerbic wit of TWAIN, an anthropomorphized I-IV-V (rock 'n' roll) barre chord progression: simple & imperfect.

[MAN] Writer. Fighter. Candlelighter. A curious observer, a guitarist, an honest analytic, an average kayaker but a n00b sailor. A passionate explorer of life that paid his own way through university, graduated with honors, and began his career as a Certified Public Accountant, performing the rare accomplishment of passing all four parts of the exam on the initial sitting; he loves the irony given that he does not practice any longer and he calls himself a Recovering Accountant. While participating as a member in the proverbial alphabet soup gang he worked his ass off in order to fulfill youthful dreams and promise. He still works his ass off, writing and publishing under pseudonyms, and volunteering for the grassroots children's literacy outreach charity he co-founded with his wife and for other organizations, too. His style of guitar playing is aptly described as Dr. Frankenstein-esque: he mulls about his basement laboratory composing rock guitar instrumentals that occasionally come to life and wreak (beautiful, meaningful) havoc. He enjoys dabbling in the culinary arts, and he'd love to be able to call himself a sailor while keeping a straight face. He's committed to lifelong learning and possesses an uncanny ability, willingness, and stamina to linger in museums and art galleries for extended periods of time: so long, in fact, he has been escorted off premises by security personnel for lingering beyond closing time.

And, like the moniker, simple and imperfect.
I believe there's a subtle but important difference between pretending and make believe. I love being creative and engaging in make believe. I do not, however, pretend! ✒

Dedication: For my wife, these and all things

"particles on a piano"

by Geoffrey Allison | SIXSTRINGcpa | Limp Dickinson. Copyright 2017.
Inspiration: "Together We Will Live Forever" by Clint Mansell
dearest love,
i never mind that we are so small.

do i ever tell you?

of my wish for nothing, nothing but to do it all over again — to share it all over again — with you. two motes, each applauding the other's performance atop that black-lacquered stage.

do i ever tell you?

in that polished surface, how i search for reflection. and you are always there. the instrument grander still.
you are never not beautiful.

do i ever tell you?

of my admiration, how your spirit resonates when hammers strike thunderous chords composed by unseen hands and melodic keys twist and turn. life unlocks surprises.
and you are never not kind — never not brave.

do i ever tell you?

about the pulsing, the vibrations drawing us closer. how we resonate. remain bonded. move through crest and trough.
until quiet returns.

do i ever tell you?

about my ancient memory, what i have always known:
together we will live forever.
​and we have.

"This is hunger. I am Hungary."

a bear witness-style poem of words and photos.
by Geoffrey Allison | SIXSTRINGcpa. Copyright 2015.

Accountants Anonymous
A 12-step program for Recovering Accountants
Original program developed by SIXSTRINGcpa, circa 2004

  1. Enjoy life from 01-January through 15-April now
  2. Do not give tax advice, offer in-depth quantitative analysis, or create spreadsheets; however, feel free to educate people working cash registers on how to make correct change
  3. Recognize numbers cannot, and do not, love you back
  4. Forgive the inventors of the green visor and over-sized attache
  5. Remember your freeloading neighbor is not a 'dependent' for tax deduction purposes
  6. The words amortization and depreciation shall not be spoken for at least six months, preferably not spoken for twelve
  7. Find hobbies not requiring calculators, spreadsheets or maths
  8. Purchase a dress shirt in any color other than white
  9. Stop insisting your children calculate the future value of the $1.89 they want to spend on a soda
  10. Sell the sedan and buy a Vespa scooter and wear really bitchin' sunglasses, even in winter
  11. Practice saying the following until you no longer laugh out loud, or vomit in your mouth, when you hear them spoken by the Gibberati: synergy, crushing it, thought leadership, pivot, engagement, and guru
  12. Define ROI inappropriately, like many marketing [and Social Media] types, where return can mean something other than actual profit and investment can mean anything as well—say like the amount of time wasted listening to people incorrectly define or use the term ROI

A few Random Riffs I have made over the years