Wholesome pursuits.

Big props to the Omicron variant for refreshing my anxiety/phobia/fury at people who wear masks beneath their noses. I plan to distract myself from this new microbial purgatory with a host of habits/skills/interests I’ve acquired during the pandemy:

  1. The compulsive acquisition and propagation of a rather large assortment of houseplants. These remain unkilled at the time of this writing, which is nothing short of a miracle. Although I feel like I’m teetering between a hobby and an obsession. Where is the line? (Photographic evidence to follow.)
  2. Reaching Expert+ level on Beatsaber. I am alone on this journey. Please DM me on my regular Insta if you’d like to join a multiplayer room. I’m serious.
  3. A fresh addiction to TikTok. I won’t go into the myriad ways I ingest content on this platform, but I’ve also begun experimenting with content generation. No idea why. Blame the ‘rona.
  4. Some new fitness certifications. In addition to being a Yoga Alliance registered E-RYT® 200, I’m now a Certified Personal Trainer through NASM® and an official SPINNING® instructor. I wanna start a private training group geared toward writers and folks in the industry. DM me on my fitness Insta if you’re in interested.

I won’t discuss my towering stack of less-wholesome pursuits because I value your esteem. Instead, here’s a butt-ton of plants I haven’t murdered yet:

Theatre with no theater.

About 150 years ago back in May, I sent out a strange email blast with two theatre pals, Meg Miroshnik and Kelly Miller (who founded the feminist advocacy group the Kilroys with myself and ten other theater artists). The email was formatted weird because Meg’s keyboard was messed up, and there was a link to a strange internet page which lead to another strange internet page which lead to ANOTHER page with a request for artwork, promising that if we received more than 100 pieces we would make a book.


We got more than that.

So we made a book. 

New book.

It’s brimming with beautiful pieces made by people you know or wish you knew. Or will get to know by seeing what they made. Go take a look: https://amzn.com//1734140224/  

We’re dropping it the day before the election because we’ve been clenching our teeth for about five weeks straight, and this book has helped remind us we can still make & share art through our pain and discomfort.

Maybe you could use that kind of relief right now?

Or maybe you just want a distraction from the chaos.

Or, perhaps you’re in the mood to witness the bravery of folks finding expression for things that are inexpressible…

Unless you already have plenty of books with artwork by theater people. In that case, maybe you should buy one for your friend who doesn’t have any?

Or maybe you want a book but can’t fork over the dough. Well then, ask your extravagant chum to purchase one for you.

And if you happen to be an extravagant chum, buy ten books and give nine away.

Just FYI, the proceeds will go towards a small relief fund for theater artists: https://tripwireharlot.com/relief.html. So there’s that.

And hey, if you know someone in the field who could use the cash, send them that link. And if you’re that someone, fill out the form. If not, see above re: extravagant chums.

The $$ will be available to folks for as long as we can keep this up.


That’s all for now.

Please be well.

We’ll get through this.

With love and gratitude, 

Purging demons.

This pandemic, amirite? Boy oh boy. It’s been a minute since we chatted and JEEZ LOUISE a lot has gone down. Dunno about you but I’ve been having trouble writing/focusing/dressing/etc.  I’ve been trying to purge the demons by playing Beat Saber til I drop and building weird things out of wood and staying off Zoom as much as possible.

BUT ALSO. I’ve been making a book. With two theater pals. Which is like, the best demon-purger ever. I don’t wanna say too much because we have no official drop date, but so far we have a digital proof and a cover design and are in the process of editing. So.

Also? You might be in it. If not, you probably know someone who is. Go peek at the list of contributors if you’re curious. The book is like 350 pages and includes illustrations, photographs, poems, scenes, sheet music, typographical art… it’s kind of like a jumbled snapshot of how we were all feeling roughly two months after our profession disappeared. It took major guts for these artists to figure out how to distill their feelings to a single 5×8 page, and the result is astonishing and moving and truly badass.

More soon, hopefully. But for now, here’s the cover (kind of says it all):

Book cover.