I find my way through the world, through my politics, and through my own and other's humanity through writing. I am most alive when making art, and that's why I make the work I do--to make others feel alive, one limb, one organ of one creature we make together..

We often talk about theatre as a sacred space, but the reality is that for many people, sacred spaces are loaded or even traumatizing. I grew up with the idea of the Good Word, that language is capable of shaping not only reality but God themself. Alongside this sensibility that God is built out of a language we build together, I also grew up a CODA (child of Deaf adults), with ASL; in ASL language is a gift you give over not just with your hands outstretched, but your whole body. Whenever I write a line in a play, I think about how to sculpt those words into the air and people receiving them.

Questions about desire, faith, the body and all its messy intersections are the core of my work. My plays traverse the mythic and violent spaces between these junctions.. I’ve written about young girls transforming themselves into monsters to escape abuse in Big Bad, a Rape Joke written by a survivor of sexual assault coming to life to confront its maker in Funny Like, HAHA., a young Deaf woman who steals her selkie lover’s skin because she can’t bear the thought of being alone again in Skin Song— to me, to be hallowed does not mean to be perfect. I think what is most holy is the honest and flawed ways we try to make our way through the world.

It is ever easier, in a late-stage capitalist world that asks us to pay our rent while we watch global atrocities play out on a loop on screens before us, to feel like ghosts in our own bodies. The siren song of alienation is incessant. Whenever I write, I am trying to remind myself that I am alive, which I can only do by being amongst others that are trying to be alive too.