An un[be]coming out story — I chose Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd starring Angela Lansbury, the hottest tickets on Broadway in 1979, which in the end Mom did not enjoy because “Why would anyone like a musical about people eating people?” She was in town for a business meeting with Coty cosmetics, offering her an opportunity to…

How disaster united two rivals — In the bed of Kevin’s truck were several large oil drums filled with gasoline, dangerously exposed, a necessary risk — enough fuel to get us there, run a generator for five days, and get us out. He knew there wouldn’t be a gas station open from middle Mississippi southward, and…

As SCOTUS scratch their majority balls — No wonder I was called a “FRUIT!” on the playground of my youth. OK, let me back up a little. I’ll start with the ‘locus delicti’ or scene of the crime — the Garden of Eden, where the very first argument started. It was between Eve and God. Not God…

A Poem In Memoriam: Carol Hepper, renowned artist, 1953–2021 — This year especially the irony of the first in bloom on the last day I’d ever see you Witch Hazel divining spring before breath turns invisible those unearthly blossoms in March gone before its begun Ragged, spidery, ribbon petals the color of sulfur and blood braving bare branches compact like tiny shocks-of-hair worn by…

A true story of love written in the stars — The decorative painting company we worked for had clients who had made obscene fortunes on Wall Street. One had built a McMansion in East Hampton on several coveted acres, once a potato field. Our painted faux techniques on nearly every wall, baseboard, and door — marbling, stenciling, strié-ing, wood graining…

And the color yellow — In the summer of 1980, I lived the starving-artist life on the top floor of an East Village, three-room, tenement walk-up, the classic pre-renovated kind with a toilet closet in the hall and a tiny bathtub in the kitchen next to the only sink. …

Queer art inspires a three-way with two straight boyfriends — We have tough conversations. Not like the ones with my straight male friends when I lived and worked as an artist in Brooklyn — painstakingly politically correct conversations, agreeable and unequivocal. My two closest male friends since moving to Rhode Island are also straight. With them, I’m grateful to have…

How my artwork blazes against the dying light! — The low slant of winter light coming through the western windows of my art studio, at just the right angle and at just the right time, sets my studio ablaze, turning it into a wonderland of iridescence and reflected light! …

A piercing story about art, love, and genitals — Madonna’s astrologer predicted precisely when I’d meet my husband. Cheryl, a comedian and astrologer, was part of a gal-pal threesome; Madonna and Sandra Bernhard were the other two. When I met Cheryl in 1989, Madonna’s and Sandra’s careers were peaking. Cheryl still had to make a living as an astrologer…