POET | PLAYWRIGHT | TEACHING ARTIST
Tonight we should be able to see the aurora borealis. There is a website with the forecast, but this part of the country isn’t included there. We are too far south of the arctic circle. Today, however, there is a solar flare and the sky is supposed to dance all over Europe. I’ve got an…
The conscious physical restraint has restrained me creatively. I wonder what one would observe comparing film clips of my work before and after the Corona restrictions. If I would seem “normal” now. In the classroom, in the conference room: now sitting across the table and down one seat to measure out a meter.
It is an odd project – to sit down in this little room every day and write. No matter what. What comes, comes. Like dipping a bucket into a well and hoping you pull up a little container filled with clarity. Reflection. That’s a shit metaphor. Sorry. Some days nothing comes on its own. Some…
When I was a teenager I saw myself in New York City. That was it. After a childhood on the wrong side of the tracks in the OC (yeah, no one called it that), in the searing heat of Vegas, in the middle-of-nowhere Bakersfield, in the cold isolation of Kentucky… New York City was a…
The following year, another production with Gregorian chanting and candles. I fainted again. No wonder I connected the theater with the sacred long before I had read about Artaud or Grotowski and the other people looking for the sacred in the storytelling space.