I favor a slow art practice, exploring material over long periods time (1 to 3 or more years). I can also make work quickly when there is a clear focus and set of protocols. My practice is driven by chance encounters and rigor, heavy on research and images. I look for ways to challenge my ideas of what performance can be, pushing to find new strategies for storytelling and experimentation with form. I’ve written about child abuse, body image, poverty, environmental activism, terrorism, and the limits of love. No matter how experimental or non-linear my storytelling, I write from an intimate, honest place that invites reflection about our time and speaks to future generations.

My worlds tend to favor the lost, the discontent and the unheard, and to expose the ways power asserts itself through language and structure. I like to prolong the uncomfortable and strip away the effects of steeping in a 24/7 always-open-for business culture. I am committed to making work that is organized around the principal of local sustainability and livability, to make work that honors and values artistic labor by paying artists a living wage. As artists, our work often creates temporary communities; I want to make work that emphasizes sense of place, nurtures meaningful relationships, and situates artists as vital and integral members within a larger community.

I’m inspired by my children. I feel a responsibility to make work that explores how our choices effect our children’s future. This translates into a profound desire to take an hard look at our world, my role in it and ask what shifts can I instigate in collaboration with other artists and communities.

My goal is to create one of a kind theatrical experiences where we can celebrate and embrace, remember and mourn, contemplate larger issues and rehearse new ways of being together in relationship with the world—face to face in person or in digital environments.