A Roadmap for the New Year

I’m sitting in a warm cafe in a wintry Montana, sipping coffee and writing my first personal blog entry in two years. I was gonna sit down and work on my new play Primordial and I just got hit with an urge to do this first. January’s got a special kind of encouraging magic to it, right? I love how the start of the year offers up a moment for us to reset mentally and clean-slate it.

My New Year reset always includes taking a moment, just before midnight on the 31st, to write out resolutions. They’re geared towards things I actually want to do and are not about restricting current habitual behavior. I think of my resolutions as a roadmap to remind me of what’s internally important.

One of my biggest goals for 2022 is to get a production agreement signed and a production scheduled for my new theatre play Primordial. It’s my second full-length documentary (interview-based) theatre play, all about pregnancy and childbirth. I interviewed 44 different people about their experiences and then I turned about 1000 pages of interview transcripts into a 50-page play.

It’s been a powerfully illuminating experience for me and I’m incredibly excited to share the play with the world. I’m finishing up my fourth draft of the play this month (or this week?!), weaving in a couple more perspectives and feeling through the ending and where it wants to go.

Creating this play has very much felt like standing on the precipice of a great mountain absorbing a breathtaking view and then trying to capture it. I have a sense of anticipatory frustration almost. The topic is so grand and historical and there are so many vantage points you can approach it from. Can I do this justice? Can I get what it wants to be down on the page? The truth is, I can’t not do it. My heart and my soul demand I finish it and get it out into the world.

I LOVE IT when I feel that inner sense of urgency and drive. When I don’t feel like I have a choice. It’s in motion and I’m committed to it no matter how scary it gets.

I started this blog in 2016 – which is bonkers. I haven’t regularly written in here over the years but I want to really go for that this year. All these years later I’m still facing fear, and I will until the day I die. It’s a choice I’m making to do that. Again, I can’t fucking help it.

While this blog is still about my journey facing fear, I’m hit with the realization, this January of 2022, that it’s also about commitment. Speaking of, I’m gonna commit to a weekly entry on here this year and see where that takes me.

The Universe says: you want it? Great. Just commit to it and you can have it. No matter how scared ya are.

Happy New Year, friends.


ps: I’m realizing I accidentally just drank a caffeinated coffee instead of my regular decaf. Whoops. Time to go drink some water. Helloooo 2022.

How We Love

Video Still How We Love

Everything in the world seems to be in chaos right now, and that is in part what fuels my writing. It’s my way of revolting – energizing my heart and offering my words up as theatre to rejuvenate yours.

I’m producing my sex-positive play How We Love/F*ck this Fall at the legendary Cherry Lane Theatre. Over the course of the last year, I interviewed 28 different women about sex, from a positive and open standpoint. Then I transcribed those interviews and turned them into monologues and wove my own personal narrative poetry about my experiences as the connective tissue throughout.

It’s the biggest push to face my fear I’ve ever made. The writing is tremendously vulnerable and it explores a topic that engenders some extensive shame among men and women alike – human sexuality.

We’re currently fundraising for the play, we have some fun giving levels, and anything you can afford to give, I’ll be incredibly grateful for.

My producer just sent me the below Toni Morrison quote this afternoon and it perfectly describes why the heck I keep producing my play amidst all the human pain we see around us. Why getting this play to the stage drives me forward and gives me purpose, unlike anything I’ve ever known in my life before.

“This is precisely the time when artists go to work. There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal.

I know the world is bruised and bleeding, and though it is important not to ignore its pain, it is also critical to refuse to succumb to its malevolence. Like failure, chaos contains information that can lead to knowledge — even wisdom. Like art.”

-Toni Morrison

I’m profoundly grateful to everyone who has joined me on this journey to bring this play to life. If you haven’t yet donated, please make a contribution to this intimate celebration of female sexuality.

Facing My Fears and Choosing to Act

I have a vivid childhood memory of watching my mother standing in front of her french-door closet, next to an ornately cut mirror that she’d hand-painted with a rim of golden leaves. She grabs an item of clothing that reminds her of an ex-boyfriend out of the closet and pitches it on the ground, gleefully exclaiming ‘I want to change my life!’ When I was growing up my mother was always clearing out the old to make room for change and livening up our Bronx apartment with touches of grace and beauty. I’ve been remembering that this weekend as I’ve been clearing my apartment of old clothes, boxes that have been lying around, and over a year’s worth of magazines. I too have decided to change my life.

It’s been a long time coming but I’m finally coming to terms with the fact that I’ve been creatively stuck for the past few years. I’ve come up with loads of ideas for projects I want to work on, and I’ve gone through and created a bunch of them, but I haven’t finished them and shared them with the world. I’ve been holding onto them, keeping them close, buried inside. It’s been a long build up for me: a nearly 140 page book of interviews and memoirs that needs edits and rewrites, a solo play that is ready for a fresh round of edits, another solo play that is ready for self-publication, a short film I wrote two years ago and am starting to now get into pre-production, performing in a monologue project for Youtube, an idea for a children’s book I started researching and then stopped.

I’ve recently realized all this incompletion is because I’ve been afraid. The creative energy that I most want to express I’ve been using a lot of energy to restrain and repress because I’m scared of what might happen when I share it. I don’t like admitting fear because I’m a strong, independent, self-sufficient woman, but it’s real and I want to charge through my resistance to get closer to self-actualization and peace of mind.

We live in a time when it’s pretty easy to drum out the noise of our fears. I can tune into one of any number of the TV shows out there, drown it out with music, or turn to things I’m already confident about such as social media. I have done all that a-plenty but what I really want now is to move forward.

Along with de-cluttering and beautifying my home, I’m going to finish these projects I have in limbo, starting with self-publishing a solo play I wrote and performed in last year about Jonas Mekas, the ‘godfather of avant-garde cinema’. I interviewed him and turned that into a 20-minute solo piece called That’s How Angels Arranged. I’m excited to share that piece with you soon.


Tomorrow is another chance to make the right choices, the ones that will lead me further into the fear I feel, and closer to getting through to the other side of it. What I fear most is change and the terror of the unknown and yet both are an inescapable part of being human. 

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” –  Anais Nin 

This quote is my mantra right now. There’s risk either way, whether I stay fearful or whether I take action towards growth. And so much good could come of allowing myself to blossom. So, here goes. I’ll keep you updated on my progress.