The silence told me plenty.
we so funny
Making things … helps.
I’m trying, but I can’t keep up. And maybe that’s understandable, but it’s not enough.
Singing karaoke at my dear friend Ellen’s birthday and perhaps being a little on-the-nose. Perhaps.
The best art, in every medium, is about truth.
I am a rage machine.
It … isn’t pleasant.
Sometimes the best thing about theater is seeing your friend kill a role.
There were days in February where I was a blank. Where my notes read things like “I worked. I can’t remember anything else.”
Since it was grief at losing my Mother that had me so disconnected, I decided to write about my memories of her on those days.
This is from a trip to “The Beach” in North Carolina when I was a child of about 10 or 12. I made the long drive into a game, talking about Star Trek and deciding what each thing in the car and on the road related to. It was just Mom and I and she laughed and played along, participating in my silliness and encouraging my nerdy passions.
I miss all the ways we laughed. I miss my Mom.
This is the only solid evidence that exists of the dance number I had in a show once.
It cut was for the good of the show (I actually agree with the change – the show was way too long), dancing is … no my forte so getting good at this meant I put in an absolute ton of work. But I still had those moments in front of the cast and with my dance partner, and I’ll always treasure those.