Gays of our Lives (May 26, 2009)

AE: You've talked about your family tragedy, and you wrote a book about it. What made you decide to do that?
TB: I had to write the book, man. I was sitting on a park bench in Reno in 1994, and I just knew that people would not be able to believe the events of my life. It was just so much bigger than normal, my brother killing my mom in 1989. She was a wonderful mother. Then him going on the road and wanting to kill me.

Years later, receiving a letter asking me to go to my brother in prison to see if he needed help, then actually arriving at the prison and realizing he was unbelievably sick and nonexistent, and really did need my help to acquire medicine for him to come back. And then to see the journey of he and I discussing schizophrenia, discussing paranoia, having so much in common. Fifteen years later, I don't know if there's anyone I can relate to or love more than my incarcerated brother.

He calls me twice a week, and I see him once or twice a year. He has grown unbelievably. Seventy percent of boys who kill their mother never get to a point of remorse. When I was visiting, I never pushed him for that or expected that, but as it turns out, he did get to a point of remorse, and he got his feelings back, which is astounding. I think some kids just cut it off. When you kill somebody you love like that, you just can't deal with it.

AE: Was it hard for you to decide to go see him in the first place? A lot of people wouldn't want to deal with that at all.
TB: Oh yeah. I didn't want to see him. Dude, I was terrified. When I got to the prison, there was no dividing glass, so I had to sit right next to my brother who had threatened to pull out my heart with his hands. He's a black belt expert and he'd already killed our mom, so I felt like I was risking my life to see him. That's what's so powerful about my story. I think I'm a pretty self-centered guy. I think a lot of people in the entertainment industry are, but I went there for very unselfish reasons, and I was the one who benefited because I was there giving. I think it's a very powerful universal theme.

AE: How did your career as an artist get started?
TB: I've always painted. I always played with my Lite-Brite as a kid, dying Easter eggs, and with my crayons. About six or seven years ago, someone came into my apartment and said, "Why aren't you selling?" I'd never expected to sell. It was just something I did because I loved it. I gave it to friends and stuff.

He showed it to a friend who owned a Beverly Hills gallery, and she flipped over it. She started to sell it, then in 2004, Scarlett Johansson, along with the Art of Elysium charity, hosted a huge gallery opening where I had two hundred and fifty art pieces up. I've been invited to paint at live charity auctions, which I love doing. People have just taken notice of my art. I'm just very fortunate. When I go to the canvas, I'm just fearless. I don't think, "I can't do it," so I don't have any crippling fear there. In the real world, there are many things I'm afraid to do, but when it comes to the canvas, I'm not. I don't know what to make of that.

AE: You mentioned that another brother killed himself. Where were you in your life when that happened and how did that affect you or change you?
TB: It was in 2000, and it was a very difficult point in my own life. I was at the height of my own nervousness to the point where I was inventing characters for myself before I could go out of my house and deal with people at the grocery store or at the post office. I wasn't sure if it was because of my genetics, or if I was allergic to my dogs and had to use my inhalers six times a day, plus being a chocolateaholic. I don't know if it all just combined, plus my lack of sleep. It was just a difficult period in my life. I'm a very different person today. I'm sleeping today, and I'm confident like I haven't been in twenty years.

As far as my brother taking his life, I was there when the police knocked down his door and found him. They didn't want me to see him, and I said please, let me see him. They showed me him. He was just a shell. I didn't see my brother in that body. He had put a gun to his mouth, apparently a day or two before. There was no sense of who he was. For me, it reaffirmed my belief in life after death, because it wasn't like it was him.