Why I write plays...

Over the years, I have worked in absolutely every corner that exists in the theatre. I was first drawn in as an actor. While perusing an undergraduate degree and performing in tiny equity waiver spaces all over Los Angeles, however, I had multiple opportunities to do it all; acting, writing, producing, directing, designing, stage management, understudy, box office, hang and focus - literally all of it. And I loved it. All of it. It was not until years after I began writing plays in earnest, that it dawned on me. As a playwright, I am able to go back and work in all of those corners again. In the creation of a new work – a new world – I am able to wear every hat. Not by doing or dictating the work of other creatives – no. But as I construct, by considering how the things that I imagine – and put on the page – might come to life. How the manifestation of lights, sets, costumes, sound, and movement will serve the characters, the story, the ideas, and the uniqueness of our collaborative art form. I feel most successful as a playwright when collaborators – everyone – actors, designers, technicians, and directors – feel like they have been given a gift. Something to discover and then gift again – back to the whole. Those are the plays that I want to write. As an artist. For other artists.

And then there is the audience. The world. I have always been driven to communicate. As a young boy, I had a severe stutter. Perhaps that had some impact on my persistent desire to say something. To be heard. To be understood. I had a professor in grad school who said, “If you want to change the world, you are going into the wrong profession.” At first, that sober declaration from someone I admired made me feel a little ashamed. Naive. I was a dreamer. I am a dreamer. As time went on, I continued to consider my professor's pessimistic assertion about the lack of transformative power in my art. And I grew angry. The theatre had changed me. Is that not changing the world? More than that. There have been times in my life when the theatre has saved me. The existence of art, the experience of art, the creation of art. It has pulled me through and lifted me up. That is the art that I want to create. As a human. For other humans.

What we do as artists is the opposite of suffering in silence. It is the opposite of pain and horror without reflection. It is, rather, a deep, loud, fearless, and hopeful dive into every dark recess of who we are. Every corner that exits, right? Again, all those corners. And I love it. All of it. And that can change the world. That can save the world. I believe. It can.