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I was born in the shadow of the Lackawanna Steel plant in Western New York and grew up in various bucolic villages at the trailing end of economically depressed Appalachia near the Cattaraugus Reservation of the Seneca. After returning from the war in Vietnam and graduating from the State University of New York at Fredonia, I was driven from the area by the “White Death” snowstorm of 1977. Since that time I have been a freelance actor, artist, and writer in Los Angeles.


Spend two months in Florence, Italy through my photographs and commentary. Hear about off-beat locations, amusing encounters, and the faulty “House of Frankenstein” plumbing and eerie smells of my apartment in the former “Pension Office for Invalids with Unfortunate Maladies” located in the Piazza della Signoria in the beating heart of the Renaissance. Visit San Gimignano, Lucca, and Siena. Take a side-trip along the wildflower-strewn cliff-side paths of the Cinque Terre and stay with me in Stalin’s Terrace, a disused underground bunker with a lookout through the cliff face now converted to an apartment just above the crashing sea. Experience my Friday the 13th walk through the half-mile long, ghoulishly dark abandoned train tunnel just to get to the nude beach, drinking a Negroni while dancing in a private palazzo overlooking Michelangelo’s David to the right and Brunelleschi’s dome to the left, and our unauthorized tour of the Uffizi (snuck in by the janitor) that set off the alarm system.

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