Author Archives: thetorzorean

Many years ago, when I was trying to understand my Azorean identity, I came upon Adelaide Freitas. I had walked into Livraria Gil, an old bookstore in Ponta Delgada, like a detective following a lead, searching for books that could … Continue reading →

Há muitos anos, quando procurava a minha identidade açoriana, descobri Adelaide Freitas. Tinha entrado no Gil, aquela livraria antiga de Ponta Delgada, como se fosse um detective a perseguir uma pista, à procura de livros que me pudessem ajudar a … Continue reading →

  “To everything there is a season,  A time for every purpose under heaven:” Ecclesiastes 3: 1 NKJV And so, the time has come to let go of a significant part of my life – one that has given me purpose, identity, fulfillment, … Continue reading →

Sem palavras…

The first month of spring was not spring at all; winter stubbornly refused to leave and became the unwelcomed guest who stays too long at the party. We have endured the weather politely and patiently, as Torontonians are prone to … Continue reading →

       Provincetown, USA The Azorean writer Álamo Oliveira, from the island of Terceira, wrote the seminal novel, Já não gosto de Chocolates, published in 1999, out of print for a while, but now back to the reading public with … Continue reading →

House in Provincetown, Massachusetts, USA My parents brought me to Canada when I was nine, and I have lived in Toronto ever since. But those first nine years of my life in São Miguel, in Portugal’s Azores islands, remain a … Continue reading →

 Old Vic building, Victoria University, Toronto The snow came back yesterday to remind us that winter in Toronto is not yet over. I could not resist but take the time to walk around the campus where I work and capture … Continue reading →

“Tourada à corda” in Terceira Island, Azores   I overheard a conversation between a father, his wife and daughter while at lunch at Le Petit Château in Quebec City the other day. “What are you planning to do this afternoon?” … Continue reading →

I’m hanging out with paulo da costa these days. On the crowded subway ride to work in the morning and again in the evening on the way home I listen to him; those around me don’t. But I prefer listening … Continue reading →