A native New Yorker, born at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital a few hours passed my due date of April 4th.  My doctor’s name was Dr Bowe. He is no longer living. My Mother tells me that I was a crying baby: hungry, wanting attention and food...nothing new.

 

My parents and I lived in CoOp City Apartment complex in the Bronx.  We lived on the 24th floor. We were the first inhabitants of this new apartment.  I don’t remember too much of that period in my life, except that my babysitter was my Mother’s childhood friend. My parents drove me to her house every day before they left for work.  My Dad was my buddy. I looked just like him. We had a good time together: he taught me how to ride a bicycle. He took me places...when he wasn’t doing other things.

 

My parents and I then moved to the new apartment complex on Roosevelt Island, in the middle of the East River, in Manhattan. Our apartment was a duplex apartment accessible by aerial tram between Roosevelt Island and Manhattan. My Mom used to say we lived 3 minutes and 30 seconds from Bloomingdale's Department Store.  She'd come home from work smelling like Estee Lauder perfume, she enjoyed walking through the fragrance department on Bloomingdale's first floor. To this day, I'm not much of a fan of perfumes.

 

Aside from some bumps there as a very young person, Roosevelt Island was great. It's national and international community housed representatives from the United Nations which was close by, and I enjoyed having a diverse group of friends.  I literally had friends that were from all over the world, which, I imagine, is why I never acquired any type of accent or dialect. After my time there, my family moved to New Jersey, then I, off to UNC School of the Arts, while my family moved north to Massachusetts. 

 

My entire young life I worked hard to be good: a good dancer, a good singer, a good actor: an overall good being. I've travelled and performed in wonderful parts of the world, from Istanbul to Vancouver. I've put myself out there, strived to be the funniest, the wackiest, the most honest 'me' I could be. I ‘fell’ and failed many, many times, with the scrapes of the treatment I received and learned from. As an adult, I still find that a head-borough, or flight, is safer than a turn towards the sun.  But I get up and move forward: I am so grateful for all the lessons learned.

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I thank my parents, family, and friends for the continued love and support.

 

Thanks be to God. #Grateful #NMRK 

 

Oh, I can also be terribly whimsical, goofy and funny...ha...ha ha...ha ha ha...

 

     ...wasn't that funny?