The Incredible Shrinking Shakespearean
Published in AMERICAN THEATRE MAGAZINE October, 1990 A crying baby expresses its emotional truth—its breath picks up its essential...
The Mumblers Needed Their Consonants Pricked
My mom died the morning of June 5th, at the ripe, full age of 84. The day previous she’d spent a long, leisurely, laugh-filled FaceTime...
In Which I Learn Something in Public (Learning in public is my definition of "performance"
I included a video in my newsletter yesterday & I wanted to take it back the minute I released it. But pressing “send” means that's...
I Am Like a Field Upon Which Nothing Will Grow
"Once there lived a king and queen who were rich and had everything they could wish for but no children. She complained day and night...
Fall the Way the Wind Blow
Our willow tree - what remains of it - has dropped a mighty branch into our back yard. It made a great, ripping sound and then returned to s
Weathered and Intimate
On the last night, my son stood watch over the good dog Beamer who was in undisclosed pain and couldn’t bear to be alone. I couldn’t...
More Like a Partner
Holly Fairbank is my sister-in-law a couple of families over. She's a mother, dancer, choreographer, and professor of aesthetics in New...
Where I'm Coming From
...isn't it so that there will never be enough psychotherapists in all the world to fix what ails us? Imagine instead: a world of citiz
At a Glance: no solos
"We don't know what soul means, but we're lost without it." ~Michael Meade
Why Is It Called no solos?
Suddenly, without my consent, I was not only a voice coach, I was a mystic.
