Filed under radical acceptance

My Real Father

In 2007, I needed to take my healing and channel it to another place. I was going to have a knee replacement.  My knees gave out on me as I applied at the malls and several teaching institutions and when crossing the street, I found myself in the middle of it without the strength in … Continue reading

Capture Your Memories

When I was having trouble with mom’s suicide in my 40s I dealt with my insecurities by sewing. I began with stitchery kits of flowers, sunsets, and Indian scenes. Mom loved to grow sunflowers in the Green District, a tiny suburb of Roseburg, Oregon. She gazed at the peach colored sunset and rocked back and … Continue reading

A Gay Man’s Life

As I sit a gallery in Portland, Oregon, where my paintings hang with other artists, I’m looking at a photo. That’s me in the denim jeans and white laced blouse with my brother’s arm around my shoulder. He has a dusky Afro and a wide Portuguese smile. A happy picture. I remember stroking his soft … Continue reading


Mom and I smoked Virginia Slims and carried on lighthearted conversations in my 20’s.  We became lushes together. She was a beauty born into a family of ten in Natal, Brazil, and had black kinky hair and hazel eyes. Her father was a tailor in a village where people came to him to mend their … Continue reading