A Tale of Two Covers

For the first time, I have two stories on the covers of two publications at the same time. On the June/July pride issue of Out is my story “Paris is (Still) Burning,” with photographs by the amazing Kevin Amato. And on this week’s cover of the Village Voice is my story “Black and White and Hebrew All Over.”

March was a strange month. I spent my days with black and white kindergartners at the Hebrew Language Academy in Midwood, Brooklyn. Then, I’d rush all the way to the Bronx at night, to hang with kids in the ballroom “kiki” scene, as well as with the House of Xtravaganza. Both of these groups of people – mostly kids – made me appreciate how lucky I am to see a New York most people never see.

“It’s Not Easy” Being an Orphan (or a Dragon)


This rainy Friday, I’m awfully grateful to my old friend Sasha Motalygo for bringing Pete’s Dragon back into my life.

I have a lot of parallels with Pete, and his dragon. The film and I are both babies of the year 1977. But I didn’t see it until I was seven, roughly the age of the orphan Pete in the film. I had just gone to live with my parents who were, for the most part, strangers to me. It was pretty scary, given I’d been living with my birth mother up until that point in my life. I felt like an orphan, not yet aware that my birth mother would disappear entirely, nor that my dad and step-mother would become more precious to me than I could ever imagine.

Just a few days after I moved to Dahlia Street, my step-mother (who I was still calling Margaret) took me to see Pete’s Dragon after school.  I thought it was wildly exciting that I could see a movie on a school day. Even then, I think I could see the analogy between how much Helen Reddy as Nora loved little Pete, and how much my mom was growing to love me, and me her.

But re-watching “It’s Not Easy” today leaves me teary, as I see how that song alone can serve as a metaphor for our relationship. (Even the male pronoun for Pete’s other love works into the long arc of my life.)

Viewing Mark Morrisroe: Whimsy in the Face of Danger

My friend the painter Dieter Hall turned me on to Mark Morrisroe, whose show is closing today at Artists Space. I was so touched my Morrisroe’s work – completed during a short 30 years of life, which AIDS ended in 1989 – after seeing it with Andre and Kyoko that I went back yesterday before the show closed. (This time, I was blessed to experience it with Lisa Masotta, Bruni Pabon, and Alex Goldmark, all of whom brought fascinating and different perspectives which enriched the vist.)

For me, Morrisroe’s work can be summed up in one image (which you can see here in the Times’ Style Magazine). It took me a while of gazing at the picture to ask, “Is that a bird?” on the guy’s hand. And then I noticed a cat. Then a second. Then, a third! Continue reading

Greeting Our AMERICAN President at JFK: Not Just Another Day at the Office

Yesterday, I got to greet President Obama when Air Force One arrived at JFK Airport.

One of the perks of my job and my life is that I have a press pass. To that end, I use it whenever I can, to see as much interesting shit as I can, as often as a I can. (What, after all, is the meaning of our existence, but to make the most of these moment when we’re sentient beings, between our stints as dust, to see/touch/smell/hear/taste as much as we can?) The irony in my line of work is there’s often little time for live experience, and those writing from computers can often access information much faster and efficiently than those trawling around in the field.

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