Death. A powerful group of actors and artists are coming together to perform original work for three nights in Berkeley. I am so excited and terrified to be creating something - something that is only beginning to take shape. I don't know it's through-line; I don't know it's structure; or even it's message. But what has been weighing on my heart will be the impetus for this piece.
We're calling ourselves the Forge Collective. The name of our inaugural show is Instructions on How to Die.
I'm writing so much stuff on a daily basis, but it's not in any order; it's not in any sort of space; it's just coming out, whatever I happen to be feeling. I want to understand what is happening while I write, and I want to be able to present my point of view, fearlessly. I think that's what I scaring me most.
For a majority of my youth and young adult life, my opinion and voice were taught to not speak up. To not express emotion. To not say how I feel. Rather, based on a primal fear instilled in me at a very early age, I still find it hard to formulate an opinion or even express what I hear in my head.
I'm afraid I'll be laughed at; or debated; or told that my thoughts don't matter; that I'll be disagreed with to such an extent that I can't even argue my point - I'd be completely shut down.
Secret: sometimes I think that my point won't matter to anyone.
But here's an opportunity. And I'm so grateful for it. I want this to be honest and open and brutal. I mean, it's already enough that the title of our piece generates a reaction; but I think for the first time, this may be a more vulnerable me than I normally let on.