About year after performing in what would be my last gay porn film, I found myself at the Shrine of St Mary Magdalene in Vezelay France. It was an unimaginable bizarre turn of events, proving once again: that nothing is impossible with God. For, only the year before, I spent much of my time praying to the prince of darkness; now, here I was: at the Romanesque portal to one of the great Saints of the New Testament. Again, strangely enough, I had studied some of the art and architecture from Vezelay when I was an Art History student at UC Berkeley. Then, I thought they were interesting, in terms of their historical and artistic import, but that was it. Years later, like a medieval pilgrim, I walked up the long aisles, staring at the remarkably carved capitals depicting, among other things, various souls tormented by sexual vices; including a few being tortured by some extremely gruesome demons. By the time I entered the crypt, I was weeping: like Mary with her ointment to the seated Christ. It was major break-through for me. At that point: I started to believe that God could forgive me.