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About a year ago today, Ken Bryant took me to see Hugh Jackman at Radio City Music Hall. I had no idea Jackman was a Broadway star; I only knew him as his iconic Wolverine. Jackman lived the music as he performed. Joy and passion and optimism all flowed from the stage as the star clearly lived every second of performing. Then, as he moved into a medley of songs from The Greatest Showman, a young man came out and started singing “A Million Dreams.” I burst into tears. Sobbing, in the middle of the orchestra section of Radio City, during a song that should uplift and inspire. “What’s wrong?” Ken whispered in my ear, “are you ok?” I realized in that instant what was wrong. Matthew had passed away in March, and I realized since then, when I woke up, the sense of optimism, of excitement for a new day to begin, had been replaced with indifference. I realized, in that moment, my million colors had faded to a burnt beige. Later I explained as much to Ken. What happened next? That’s for another post. But my million colors came roaring back.

This weekend, Ken Bryant and I kick off our summer theater weekend, first with Suffs at Broadway at The National and then straight to NYC, with a friend, for . This year’s theme, “Stripper James Bond”. Who is my character? I’d tell you but, you know, my martini is ready.

A new, or at least reenergized, Pride has settled in me. I’m proud— maybe for the first time— to call Baltimore home. But a city is just a community of communities formally defined by landmarks. My pride is of my new family, a family of unique and oddly offbeat in the most beautiful way people that have welcomed me with enthusiasm, warmth and almost a cat like purr of joy. Joy? Joy is infectious. Nice? Nice is infectious. And nice goes a very long way with me. Happy Pride. Thanks for being here. A million colors danced down the streets Saturday, body rolled through my head, and those colors still launch me from morning bed. Happy Pride. Baltimore Shipmates I’m so extremely proud to have joined your community.

Joy was on display this past Saturday at Parade. Thousands lined the streets, cheering on Pride flag carrying marchers, dancers, twirlers and the oddly but perfectly offbeat. The entire day, under a gentle summer sun, only the exuberance of an unconditionally embraced community ricocheted down the streets of Charm City. My first march since college, Baltimore Shipmates welcomed me with unrelenting acceptance and warmth, and I spent a historic day of total mindful peace in my new community of brothers, sisters, and those with mixed and changing identities. The Baltimore Pride celebration, despite a turbulent and chaotic outside world, was literally an oasis of brilliant, shining, unstoppable, swelling, growing , exploding PRIDE.

studio to support local creatives kicked off yesterday with one of my new closest friends, Irie. Comfortable in his own skin, easy to photograph, we went under the sea and on top of life’s biggest stage, all while chomping down a burger and possibly drinking a Moscow Mule. Summer photography — — is my favorite time of year.

and I go back to my birth. It’s where I came out. It’s where my first real job was working for the Baltimore Gaypaper as a photographer, it’s where I was able to go to now closed legendary nightclubs, and where, still open, i was lucky to be asked to dance. It’s where I joined my first formal social club, . It’s where I moved to when Matthew needed treatment for his cancer. We picked this house for one reason: to be close to . It feels like picked me, and won’t let go. You know what? I’m good with that. See you at the parade. I’ll be the one you can hear 5 blocks away.

The lights I set yesterday in my new studio aren’t quite right. Close, but not quite right. So I rearranged a few things and will retest tomorrow.