Stephen Torres is from Los Angeles and his first years were spent living in a converted boxcar eating pan mexicano, playing with plastic dinosaurs, and listening to coyotes.
From then on his family moved around the Central Coast until landing in Simi, Calif. A roasting and bored adolescence and whisper of college spent in and around the San Fernando Valley finally led to an escape northward.
San Francisco has been home ever since, with cameos back in L.A. and an unfinished time in Mexico City.
The city seems to have a trance-like effect on Stephen. A bit problematic since in addition to being a general space cadet, he's also been known to sleepwalk. Cue Bernard Hermann score.
Stephen tends to gravitate towards old buildings, bars, cheap restaurants, open spaces and other places that might have a date with a wrecking ball.
Sometimes you can find other things he's written in the SF Bay Guardian and on Broke-Ass Stuart.