I could write about an "I", myself that exists from my own perspective. But wouldn't it be more fruitful to write about other's perspectives as well? Reading Mrs. Dalloway I am struck how Virginia Woolf in one passage managed cinematically to show a series of events through four characters eyes in a fluid motion over two pages.
I was born in 1965 in Syracuse, New York. I was adopted into a Italian-Polish-English Catholic family by two parents that were originally from the Boston, Massachusetts area. My father worked for the US Steel company and I am sure my parents saw that as a way out of their surroundings. In the next five years my father was transferred three more times until we finally settled in Detroit, Michigan. We made our home in West Bloomfield.
For a long time I used my Boston background as an escape. I felt, especially as a teenager, alienated by the larger group. Which unfortunately was the banal reality of growing up gay in the late seventies or early eighties. I am continually surprised at how much easier it is to be gay in high school now than it was in 1981. 
 
 

Things I love:  Delores Gray singing "Thanks Alot But No Thanks",   Rita Hayworth in Lady From Shanghai Diego Valasquez paintings,   Sarah Vaughan's recordings for the Mercury label in the 1950s, calla lillies and orchids