Approaching the ten year mark of having committed myself to playwriting (when my youngest was 6 and could put on her own coat, a lot of time freed itself up!) I feel like I am just now beginning to know myself as an artist. When I sit down to embark on a new play, it's never because I have a story to tell. It's always because I have questions to ask. As I look back on things I have written, and forward to things that are currently percolating, I realize that I continue to riff on the big idea of how much room we are willing to make for others. When people in our communities are burdensome, strange, challenging, difficult, or thrilling, interesting, dangerous and new--how wide of a swath are we willing to cut and why?